


You Have to Let Me Help You

by PrettyInPurple00



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Bad Coping Methods, Brief Sibling Incest, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Depression, Gen, I hate tagging that, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Not Hidashi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Blame, Swearing, Triggers, Victim Blaming, at least one hug per chapter later on, comfort kiss, implied/referenced eating disorder, like really, lots of hugs, vague suicidal thoughts, will add more tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyInPurple00/pseuds/PrettyInPurple00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiro has been distancing himself from his friends and family, and Tadashi won't rest until he finds out why. When he learns the truth, he will do anything to heal his brother and put that smile back on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a minor Hidashi moment in this story, but overall, it's Brotherly!Hidashi :) 
> 
> (Slight AU that the explosion never happened but Hiro attends SFIT)
> 
> Trigger warnings: Implied rape/self-harm/depression
> 
> (My story also contains victim-blaming but I want to say that that is a terrible, disgusting thing that needs to be eradicated. It is NEVER the victim's fault, EVER.)

Hiro could recall the exact moment the light went out in his eyes.

Like a switch, they were now void of life, and two black holes replaced the brown warmth that he inherited from the mother he didn't remember.

It seemed oxymoronic to say, but emptiness was filling him up. Like a flood that destroyed everything in its path, so was this. A crashing wave swept over him and washed away his joy and enthusiasm, leaving him just a shell of a person.

Getting up each day and pretending everything was alright was torture. The smile he had to force was painful, and when he wasn't looking, he could feel Tadashi and Cass' worried stares boring into the back of his head. They knew better. Both would ask him if he was okay, but he brushed them off, saying he was fine, ignoring the stinging shame in the pit of his stomach.

School was even worse, where he faced near-daily prodding from his friends, mainly Honey. He knew she meant well, but he shut himself off, refusing to answer her persistent questions.

This was his dirty little secret, and he was planning on keeping it that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! 
> 
> I do not own any BH6 characters

When the words "bot-fight" first left Hiro's mouth, Tadashi didn't hesitate. He went straight to work, implanting trackers into all of his brother's hoodies -- and he had a lot. As a sewing novice, his fingertips paid the price, but he had no choice; it was the only viable way to keep tabs on him. They came in handy, too, helping him to get Hiro out of some nasty scrapes time and time again. Hiro never questioned how Tadashi knew where to find him all the time, and Tadashi never brought it up. Hiro was smart, though, _exceedingly so_ , in fact, and Tadashi assumed he figured it out but never said anything. The older Hamada guessed that Hiro _liked_ having him come and save his behind so he could have the satisfaction of racing away from trouble, leaving the 'sore losers' in the dust. That was it, Tadashi convinced himself after a while. It was the only reasonable explanation.

 

Or so he thought.

 

* * *

 

Everything changed a month ago, when Tadashi went into the garage and saw Hiro stowed away in the darkest corner, tinkering with Megabot. 

"Whatcha workin' on?"

That was a rhetorical question.

"There's a fight later," Hiro answered, his voice echoing in the cold room.

Tadashi pursed his lips. While his method of rescuing Hiro had proven effective, he still got nervous at the idea of Hiro going up against people who were much taller, bigger, and stronger than him. They were dangerous, and Hiro was fearless in the worst way. Hiro begged him not to tell Aunt Cass about the fights, so Tadashi was sworn to secrecy. Making a scene would only cause a rift between them, and that was something he wanted to avoid. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't try to convince Hiro to quit.

He strolled over to him and wrapped his arms around Hiro's tiny shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Hiro asked, immobilized by Tadashi's grasp.

"Hugging you," Tadashi said. He growled playfully in his ear, eliciting giggles from the boy. 

Hiro pushed him away with a chuckle. "Nerd."

Tadashi eyed the little bot in his brother's hands and like a hawk, swooped down and grabbed it. He held it by one its pointed ears, twirling it around.

"Hey!" Hiro jumped out of his chair and reached for it, but he was too short.

"Give it to me, Tadashi! I need to upgrade him!"

"I'm just looking," Tadashi defended before returning it.

Hiro sat down, relieved to have his bot back in his possession. He dug a screwdriver in Megabot's stubby leg, popping it off so he could see the inner mechanisms.

His intensity was unmatched, and that frustrated Tadashi to no end.

"Do you realize if you applied half the dedication you do with this to something useful, you could change the world?" 

Hiro groaned.  _Another one of Tadashi's famous speeches. Didn't he ever get tired of regurgitating the same shit all the time?_

"I'm serious, Hiro," he continued, leaning on the desk. "You're a genius. When are you going to start doing something with that big brain of yours?"

"Whenever I damn well please. How about that?" Hiro snapped.

Tadashi recoiled at his brother's harsh reply. His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Just leave me alone, okay? I like it and I make money. What's the big deal?"

Fed up, Tadashi slammed his palms on the metallic tabletop. "It's  _illegal._ "

That was true, and with no proper comeback, Hiro spat out the word at the top of every teenager's dictionary: "Whatever."

Tadashi could feel himself losing the battle. "I just don't get it. You're doing so well in school. I thought you'd put all this behind you. That you were growing up."

Hiro shoved himself away from the table and headed to the door that led into the house. "Well, I guess you were wrong."

This was Tadashi's last-ditch effort. "Aren't you afraid, Hiro? One of these days, you're gonna get caught and you're gonna get arrested. Then what?" 

Hiro whipped his head in Tadashi's direction, his eyes dark and indignant. "Don't worry about me; I can take care of myself."

Then he was gone, and Tadashi was left to mull and stew enough for the both of them.

Scraping his shoe across the concrete floor, the older boy had only one thought:

_Thank God for those trackers._

* * *

Up in their shared bedroom, Hiro gathered his supplies for the competition.

What Tadashi didn't know was that tonight's bot-fight was going to be his last; a final hurrah. He never imagined it would be possible, but since starting at SFIT, his interest in the sport had waned. Sure, he made good money, but it wasn't exciting anymore. His name was pretty well known in the bot-fight circuit now, and unless someone was either really good or really stupid, they knew not to challenge him. Besides, an idea for some new tech had arisen, and if he wanted it to actually happen, Hiro would have to focus all of his attention on it. Maybe he _was_ growing up.

Moving to the closet, Hiro scanned his collection of hoodies. He had more than one person needed, all in various colors, but the navy blue was his favorite. It was a little worn, with loose strings and holes. The zipper was broken too, but it was comfortable and familiar; a security blanket. 

He yanked it from the hanger, and that's when he felt something hard in the pocket.

_Huh? I don't remember putting anything in here._

Hiro stuck his hand into the pouch, feeling around. There was something in there, small and square, but he couldn't get to it. It was  _under_ the fabric.

Turning the pocket out, Hiro ran his finger along the soft cloth, and that's when he skimmed over a minuscule ripple, a little bump in the otherwise intact material, like someone had cut it and then stitched it back together.

Who was messing with his clothes?

It killed him to do it, but Hiro got a pair of scissors from his desk and snipped, opening the seam.

Picking out the foreign object, Hiro held it up to the light.

"What the fuck?"

No bigger than a stamp, it was transparent green plastic, and he could see threadlike filaments within, crisscrossing each other, forming a complicated tangle of wires.

_Is this... a tracker?_

Anger seared his insides as the pieces clicked. This was Tadashi's doing. He had put a chip in his sweater, like a fucking dog.

 _Were there more?_   Grabbing the rest of his hoodies, he repeated the process, and when it was all said and done, his bed was littered with them.

Eight hoodies, eight trackers.

_Unbelievable. How dare he?_

All this time, Hiro viewed Tadashi's rescues as heroic, like he had something of a brotherly superpower that allowed him to locate him anywhere, anytime. Now he could see that that was just an illusion. Instead, Tadashi was practically stalking him, watching his every move. 

 _Moron,_ he chastised. He had an IQ of 197, but was blind to the obvious.

Hiro patted himself down, but found nothing else.

He left the seven spare hoodies in a haphazard pile on the floor. Tadashi would get the message loud and clear.

* * *

Tadashi was in the café with Aunt Cass when he heard stomping from upstairs. The heavy footsteps got closer, until Hiro appeared at the bottom of the steps.

His face was like stone - cold and emotionless. 

"I'm leaving."

Tadashi noticed Hiro's clenched fists. He narrowed his eyes at him, trying to dissect his thoughts, but Hiro offered no clues. 

"Make sure you wear your jacket, honey. It's cool out," Aunt Cass called from the back room. The poor woman was so clueless; believing Hiro's lies that he was going to the library.

Hiro pulled on the hoodie as he was told and brushed past Tadashi without a word.

"Hiro."

Pausing inches from the door, Hiro turned and shot him a glare that would strike fear into the hearts of the most vicious criminals.

Tadashi could physically feel himself shrink back. He had never seen such blazing fury from his little brother before. It was terrifying.

Unable to speak, he watched Hiro storm off, slamming the door so hard behind him that the glass windows rattled, the little bell above jingling long after he was out of sight.

Aunt Cass entered, carrying a case of soda. "What was that about? What happened?"

He looked at her, bewildered. "I... I don't know." 

* * *

Tadashi sat hunched over at the kitchen table, the last image of Hiro burned into his brain. He was  _so angry._ But why? Did reprimanding him about bot-fighting earlier upset him that much? It was a common point of contention for the two, but Tadashi only pushed him to better himself because he saw Hiro's potential. Did he finally push too far?

The grandfather clock down the hall struck ten. Hiro had been gone for two hours and his anxiety was rising.

He glanced at his phone lying silently next to his untouched cup of tea.

It was time for Hiro to come home.

Grabbing his phone, he rushed upstairs to get his helmet, activating the tracker on the way. It blinked with a steady rhythm, but something was wrong.

According to the app, Hiro was still in their room.

 _Please tell me you snuck back in._ In truth, Tadashi was holding very little hope in that possibility, which meant the only other explanation was a malfunction of the tracker, and he couldn't afford to fix that right now.

He opened the door, but just as he expected, the room was empty. Tadashi flicked on the lights and that's when he saw a multicolored lump of disheveled fabric by Hiro's bed.

Tadashi knew that Hiro wasn't the most organized person, but his hoodies were important to him. Why would he dump them on the floor like that?

The tracker flashed brighter. Hiro would have to be standing right next to him to get a trace this strong.

_Stupid machine._

Swallowing the panic that was mounting, Tadashi picked up the sweaters from the ground, desperately trying to come up with a new plan.

His train of thought was only interrupted when a glimpse of shiny green plastic against Hiro's plaid gray sheets materialized in his peripheral vision. 

They came into focus and the blood drained from his face.

_No._

A note was thrown next to the trackers, written in Hiro's bold chicken scratch. _  
_

**_Nice trick. Don't bother looking for me._ **

Tadashi sank onto the bed, head in his hands. 

He was such an idiot. His foolish presumption that Hiro knew about the trackers and accepted them so easily had landed him here. Now his brother was out there in the most godforsaken, broken-down parts of the city with no way to be reached.

There were only two options, and both were equally flawed.

The first was to disregard Hiro's warning and start searching. High, low, anywhere. But that would ultimately prove useless. From what little he knew about the sport, bot-fights were elusive, and participants made themselves scarce. Get in, get out, make it like you were never there. That was their motto. He could be out all night and not turn up a shred of information on Hiro's whereabouts. 

Second was to simply wait, and pray that Hiro made it home in one piece. The thought barely had a chance to form before Tadashi discarded it. He couldn't do that. He _wouldn't._  

Dragging his fingers through his muss of black hair, he shot up. The former choice was the lesser of two evils. He had to try to find him. He couldn't abandon Hiro and leave it to the fates to bring him back.

He was halfway down the steps when he heard the faint chime of the bell in the café; his throat tightened at the tinny noise.

Hiro was standing there, dazed, like he'd stumbled into the wrong house.

It took everything Tadashi had not to break down. "Hiro."

Engulfing him in a hug, Tadashi whispered, "Thank God."

He felt Hiro stiffen in his arms and he stepped back. 

Hiro was avoiding his gaze, but his expression no longer held that ire from before.

"I'm going to bed," was all the young boy uttered. His voice was low and hoarse.

Tadashi didn't try to stop him, and for the second time that day, he was left to contemplate on his own.

Hiro would come around sooner or later. He would see that Tadashi did what he did out of concern for his safety, not because he was nosy or purposely trying to infringe on his privacy. He would understand eventually.

 

Right? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains non-graphic descriptions of rape. Please be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who left me a kudos and a review. I truly appreciate it :)
> 
> I also changed the rating to Mature just for sensitive content/themes.
> 
> This chapter was especially difficult to write (for obvious reasons)

The next morning, Hiro awoke, shaking. His entire body throbbed. He dug his nails into the sheets to try to control the violent trembling, but it was in vain.

He wanted to sit up, but even the slightest movement made his muscles feel like they were being ripped in half. 

Each breath he managed was shallow and ragged, and the lack of oxygen was catching up to him.

Dizziness pushed him under the covers, but the darkness was a trigger for the nightmares.

Except they weren't nightmares; they were memories, and they were real.

His insides wrenched from the vivid flashbacks as he struggled to keep the bile churning in his stomach from coming up.

"Hiro?"

The younger Hamada stilled at the sound of Tadashi's voice from across the room, soft and caring as it was.

 _Go away._ Hiro squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear. He couldn't face his brother right now.

He felt his mattress dip in the corner as Tadashi sat down. "Are you awake?" _  
_

Starting to suffocate, Hiro had no choice but to pull the blanket away from his face. He was grateful that he was turned away from Tadashi so he wouldn't see the tears so desperate to leak out.

Tadashi sighed. "I know you're mad at me," he started.

_No, I'm not._

"-but I need you to listen. I know you think I put those trackers in your sweaters because I don't trust you, but it's not true. I did it because you're my brother and it's my job to protect you. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just hope you can see it from my side and understand."

A large, gentle hand rested on his arm but immediately retracted when Hiro flinched. 

There was a deafening silence that filled his ears when he realized what he had done. It was an involuntary reaction, but he wanted nothing more than to take it back. 

"Um... s-so," Tadashi stammered after a few seconds, "I'm gonna go to school. If you're up to it later, you can come, okay?"

Hiro felt a spark of guilt flare into an all-out inferno. He could hear the hurt in his brother's words.

The springs squeaked as Tadashi's weight shifted, leaning over to kiss the back of Hiro's head. "Love you." 

* * *

Scalding water rained down from above, drenching the sobbing boy.

As soon as Tadashi had gone, Hiro jumped into the shower, desperate to erase the evidence of his ordeal. 

He scrubbed until his skin was raw and tender, but it didn't help. No amount of soap could wash away the sin and shame.

Steam clogged the small bathroom, making the air stuffy and hard to breathe.

His thin frame shuddering, Hiro buckled. 

He slid into the tub and brought his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, shivering.

Despite the scorching temperature, he was numb and cold, ice slinking through his veins.

Fully exposed, Hiro could see the damage that littered his body; physical proof of the unspeakable.

 _This is all my fault. If I weren't such a hotheaded brat, none of this would have_ _happened._

When Hiro tore out those trackers, he was fueled by rage, brought on by what he viewed as betrayal. He carried that with him to the bot-fight and unleashed it on his competitors. 

_No one stood a chance. In less than an hour, he had annihilated a record thirteen bots, reducing them to a smoking pile of nuts and bolts._

_As his pockets grew fatter, Hiro's brazen nature got the better of him._

_"Come on, guys," he taunted to the crowd, "where's the challenge?"_

_This earned him some scoffs and insults, but nothing he hadn't heard before._

_"Jealousy is not pretty," he admonished with a tsk._

_The final opponent stepped into the ring._

_Hiro smirked. "Nice to see you again, Yama-san."_

_If there ever were a billboard advertising bot-fighting, Yama would be the poster child._

_He was_ the _most notorious figure in the sport, and everyone feared him -- except Hiro. It was actually a pity that this was his last fight, as Hiro was confident that he could be the one to overtake Yama's spot atop the pyramid. Oh, well. Better make this good._

_"I see you made some tweaks to Little Yama there,"  Hiro commented with fake interest._

_Bloodshot eyes glowered at him, but Hiro didn't waver._

_"Shall we begin?"_

_Bots in position, the young referee, who Hiro learned was named Tamiko, held the familiar red parasol out, obstructing the rivals' view of the other._

_She repeated the mantra before every match like an ominous warning. "Two bots enter, one bot leaves. Fighters ready? Three... two... one... fight!"_

_Piece of cake. Hiro's fingers glided over the buttons of his remote, guiding Megabot around the mat with ease._

_Little Yama was twice the size since the last time Hiro battled him, and even he had to admit that the bot had some pretty sweet new upgrades._

_Aside from a more powerful saw blade attachment, Yama had somehow wired in the ability to deliver a high voltage through the claws with the potential to render any bot incapacitated with just a touch._

_It made no difference, however. A bigger bot meant it was heavier and harder to move. Megabot spun circles around its adversary, assembling and disassembling at just the right moments. Sooner rather than later, it was over, and the crunch and squeak of metal meeting its demise was music to the boy's ears. He added another notch to his belt. Fourteen wins._

_Tamiko presented him with the ceramic dish brimming with cash, and Hiro took great pleasure in counting up his spoils, especially with an audience present. This match alone had netted him close to four hundred dollars. Combined with the others, he had over two thousand. His biggest prize to date._

_All his money tucked away, he stretched his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn._

_"I think that's enough fun for me tonight, ladies and gentlemen," he said, getting to his feet. He directed a small bow at Yama. "Doumo arigatou gozaimasu. You put up a valiant fight. Perhaps the third time will be the charm."_

_Hiro did an about-face and strolled out like he owned the place, giving himself a mental pat on the back. There would be no third time, but only he knew that. Early on in the evening, he made the executive decision not to inform the bot-fighters that he wouldn't be returning. The worry of another confrontation would keep them on their toes, making them always improve on their own creations._   _When he thought about it, h_ _e was really doing them a favor._

_Stepping out into the chilly night, he shoved his fists into the pouch of his hoodie to keep them warm. All around him was quiet and dark. He knew the area well enough to find his way, but the lampposts that lit his path were all busted, giving off intermittent flashes of dim light rather than a constant glow. Coming to a fork in his path, he had two options: Continue ahead or go through the alley. The latter choice would cut ten minutes out of his travel time, and with the temperature dropping at a steady rate, he wanted to get home as soon as possible._

_Halfway down the narrow space, Hiro paused. There were faint shuffles behind him, like he was being followed. He looked over his shoulder, preparing for the worst, but saw nothing. Feeling a twist in his gut, he quickened his pace. He could see the main streets of the city by now, teeming with people. He was almost to the end when out of nowhere, someone grabbed him from behind, clamping a hand over his mouth. Arms flailing, he tried to scream, but a boot to his shin silenced him. He was dragged away from the sight of others and then whipped around to see his attacker._

_"Y-Yama." He barely squeaked out the name before being shoved into the brick wall. The gangster's rough hand crushed his arm in a vise grip. He brought his ugly, contorted face up to Hiro's._

_"You think you're a man, huh? You think you can embarrass me like that and get away with it?" His words were slurred, and Hiro could smell the pungent stench of alcohol on his breath. It made him sick._

_"I- it was just a joke," he whispered, fear clawing at him."I didn't mean it. You can have the money."_

_Yama gave a harsh laugh, tightening his hold. "Not so brave anymore, are we? No. We have to teach you a lesson. You have to learn your place."_

_Hiro tried to break free, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. They were frozen solid. Yama then slapped him so hard he lost his balance and fell to the ground. He thought he saw an escape, but the space was closed off by the emergence of three figures cloaked in shadows. They were Yama's goons; his loyal cohorts that did his bidding._

_A fog of terror and pain blurred his vision and he brought his hands up to protect himself. They encroached on him, and despite the blood pounding in his ears, he heard the familiar drag of a zipper coming undone. He would never forget that sound for the rest of his life._

Hiro brushed his thumb over his swollen wrists, remembering how they twisted them and pinned him down so he couldn't move. He traced the bruises on his thighs, small and purple, in the shape of fingerprints from when they forced him apart, each taking their turn. The pain was excruciating.

When he cried out, one of the assailants kicked his ribs and threatened to kill him if he made another sound. At that point, he wished they had. The agony seemed to go on forever, but when they finished, Yama's parting words foretold his future: _"You tell anybody about this, and it will be the last thing you ever do."_

More salted tears slipped down his cheeks as his mind drifted to his family. He didn't deserve them.

His incredible aunt who dedicated her life to raising him and Tadashi after their parents' death. Even though she didn't know the first thing about children, she stepped up, refusing to let her nephews become another statistic in the system. She never once treated them like they were a nuisance or an obligation. They were hers, and she loved them with everything she had, giving them every ounce of support and care that their parents would have. She was superwoman as far as he was concerned. 

 _And Tadashi._  His amazing and selfless brother who would go to the ends of the earth for a stranger. He was a brother, father, and friend all in one, and the person who encouraged and believed in him with his whole heart. The one who did everything in his power to propel him to greatness. If Hiro were him, he would've given up on him a long time ago, but Tadashi never did. Just when Hiro was ready to accept defeat, Tadashi was there to pull him from the edge, inspiring him to look for a new angle. 

What would they think if they knew? They both sacrificed so much to bring him up well, and this is how he repaid them? Injecting himself into reckless situations without once considering the repercussions of his actions, leaving them to clean up his mess? _No._

His brother's words from earlier replayed in his mind.  _I could never forgive myself if something happened to you._

Tadashi would find a way to pin the blame on himself, which was another reason why Hiro had to bury this damning secret deep within. He wouldn't be able to cope knowing that Tadashi shouldered that burden. What happened was all on him, and he didn't want anyone else to suffer because of his indiscretion. This was his cross to bear, and he intended to do just that, even if it killed him. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and gave kudos. I am so grateful for all the support and kind words :)
> 
> I am so, so, so sorry this took so long for an update. School sucks.

* * *

After the shower, Hiro made his way back to his room to dress. Angry, red scratches on his legs, violet bruises on his arms. He was mindful to choose something that would conceal the markings that had been imprinted on his pale skin. Clad in his dark blue SFIT sweatshirt and gray pajama bottoms, Hiro took the outfit that he had worn the previous night and threw it in a plastic bag, shoving it in the deepest pits of his closet. Everything, including his sneakers and beloved hoodie, were defiled, and he never wanted to see them again. Hiro also tore the sheets and pillows from his bed. Having slept in them with his soiled clothes, they needed to be disposed of. He then sat at the edge of the bare mattress, letting out a shaky gasp of pain. Maybe it was adrenaline or exhaustion that had cushioned this particular injury, but he was feeling it full force now. Even without a proper diagnosis, he knew that he had several fractured ribs. It hurt to breathe, like a knife was being plunged into his side with each intake of air. 

Idle chatter meandered up from two flights below. Since brunch was added to the menu, Sunday mornings became one of the busiest times for the café. He wished he could just curl up and disappear into himself, but that wasn't an option. It was late, and Aunt Cass would worry and check on him if he didn't make an appearance. 

Gathering the energy he would need to make it through the rest of the day, Hiro rose to his feet with a wince. His steps were cautious and calculated, as not to further aggravate the trauma. He plodded out the door and down to the main living area. The couch in the family room looked inviting from where he stood. Another floor down, he heard Aunt Cass's cheery voice conversing with the customers. It got closer until he heard her light footfalls ascending the staircase to the kitchen. Disregarding the burning in his ribs, Hiro positioned himself on one of the stools at the counter and grabbed a blackened banana that he had no intention of eating.

A few seconds later, she came into view at the top of the stairs, face bright and warm. "Hiro! Hi, sweetie."

The smile he manufactured made his cheeks ache. "Hi." He cleared his throat, dislodging the lump that had settled there.

"I was wondering when you were coming down," she said, going to the teal cupboards over the stove.

"What are you looking for?" he asked, changing the subject. 

"Ah... Powdered sugar." Cass rummaged through one cabinet before slamming it shut and moving on to the next. He jumped at the crack of wood. "I ran out downstairs and forgot to pick up extra when I went shopping yesterday, like a dope. Anyway, how are you? You didn't come home too late last night, right?"  

Hiro felt his fingers indenting the overripe flesh of the fruit. "Um, try the drawer next to the dishwasher," he said; anything to keep the attention off of him.

Aunt Cass didn't seem to notice the diversion attempt and followed his instructions, her eyes lighting up when she retrieved the bag of confectioner's sugar. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?"  

Hiro gave a small hum that he hoped could pass as a chuckle. 

Cass came around and kissed his hair in the same spot that Tadashi had. "Thanks, hon."

"Welcome." He gazed at the mangled mess of fruit in his hands, the cloying and distinct smell permeating the room.

About to head back, Cass stopped. "Hiro?"

He glanced up. "Yeah?"

She smiled. "As glad as I am that you're eating something not from a box, that banana has seen better days. Why don't you come down and I'll make you something? Pancakes, waffles, French toast. Anything you want. I just finished up a batch of jelly doughnuts. I know they're not the _healthiest_ things in the world, but at least they're fresh." She chuckled at her justification for eating the fried pastry.

Hiro swallowed, an anxiousness crawling up his spine. Even though he had heard everything she said, the only thing that Hiro took away from her offer was that she wanted him to make his presence known in the café. That wouldn't be happening. The majority of the weekend customers were regulars, people that had known Hiro since he was just a toddler, running around tables and weaving through legs. Hiro knew that there were certain people he couldn't avoid, like Tadashi and Cass. But everyone else? Yes. At all costs. There was a sickening fear that they would see right through his façade to the depravity that lurked within. He wouldn't be able to handle their repulsed looks and hushed tones of disgust. Hiro was already doing that for them.

"Maybe later," he said, aware of just how tight his words sounded. "I'm still a little tired. I think I'll lie down. Thank you, though."

"Are you sure? Mrs. Matsuda's here. You should _see_ what she's wearing. Like she just stepped out of an 80's workout video. I love the woman, but-"

"I'm sure," he cut off, words harsher than he intended. He looked away, irritated that his aunt wasn't getting the message that he _just wanted to be left alone._

A foreign silence stretched out between them. "Okay," she said, her voice soft. "When you're ready." 

Once the coast was clear, Hiro wiped his hands clean of the rotting fruit and hurried to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions. He grabbed the powder blue blanket Aunt Cass had knitted a few years back and encased his entire body in the scratchy wool. He wanted to cry, but he bit back the tears, refusing to let them fall. He had no right.

_This is my fault._

* * *

_Tighten this. Screw that in. Add code here._

Tadashi went through the motions of repairing and upgrading Baymax without his normal enthusiasm. In fact, his mind was on an outright separate plane from his hands. It was at home, with Hiro. He kept remembering that look in his eyes when he got home; distant and troubled. Or that moment when Hiro recoiled at his touch, like he had burned him. It was a rejection that he never expected would come from his own brother. That was worst of all. 

"Ah!" he hissed, sticking his thumb in his mouth. Blue sparks shot in the air, accompanied by a crackle of wires. Working while distracted had earned him an electrical shock, jarring him back to the present.

"Are you okay?" Honey asked, alarmed. She was at her station, perfecting her embrittlement process. Scores of beakers cluttered the space all while she experimented to find the exact combination of chemicals to use.

"Fine," he said, the word void of any conviction. Tadashi was ready to call it a day. Nothing of value was going to get done in this state of his. He sagged into his chair, elbows on his knees, interlocked fingers under his chin.

Honey pushed her safety goggles up to sit atop her hair and pulled off her pink neoprene gloves. "Tadashi, what's going on? You don't seem like yourself. You've been kinda spacing out all morning."

Tadashi didn't want to bother her with his problems. He was overreacting. All the hours he spent convincing himself that everything would work themselves out were for nothing if he was going to continue to harp on it. That was just his nature, though. Something that he was born with and couldn't change, even if he wanted to. "I just have something I'm dealing with. A 'Hiro' situation."

"Well, you can tell me..." she said, leaving her project behind. She borrowed an extra chair from a neighboring workbench and sat down, placing a supportive hand on his arm. Her face turned serious. "If you want. I don't want to pry. But maybe I can help?"

Honey was true to her nickname; sweet as pie, always there to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. She was the first friend he made at the institute. Having a cousin who attended before them, she was familiar with the campus and showed him around to all his classes. As excited as he had been to start at SFIT, anxiety reared its ugly head in the days leading up to the start of the semester, and he was grateful to have someone to lean on and talk to, especially in that first week.

"It's nothing, really," he prefaced. "It's just... Hiro's _really_ mad at me, and I don't know what to do. I tried to explain, but he just totally shut me out. I just wish he'd understand where I'm coming from."

"What happened?"

Tadashi bit his lip. "Hiro found out... about the trackers." He saw her eyebrows rise. Even though the decision to use GPS nanotechnology on his brother was all Tadashi's, he had called upon Honey and her infinite expertise of a needle and thread. He needed to learn how to implant them the proper way, so they would be as discreet and unobtrusive as possible. It was obvious to him now that he hadn't done a very good job. 

"Oh." Honey's voice was small. "How?"

Tadashi gave a weary shrug. "He just... discovered them, I guess. Either way, he knows, and he's angry. He's been giving me the silent treatment since yesterday, before he left for the fight."

"He went to a fight? What did you do without the trackers?"

"I didn't know," he whispered, reliving the horrible panic. "Until I went upstairs and there they were, all laid out on his bed. He ripped out _every single one_. I was going to go out and look for him anyway, but he came home before I left." 

The door to the lab opened, and GoGo walked in, Wasabi close behind. Both were carrying plastic bags with smiley faces on it; takeout from the Chinese place down the street from the university.

"Do you wanna tell them?" Honey asked, keeping her voice low.

"Yeah, it's fine. I could use all the advice I can get. Would you mind filling them in, though? I just..." Tadashi rested his face in his hands.

"Of course," she replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"What's all the whispering over there?" GoGo called from across the room, drawing the attention of the half a dozen other students in the place.

"Shh..." the young chemist hushed. "Come here." 

Tadashi glanced up and saw GoGo standing beside them with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Wasabi was behind her, his expression the complete opposite; a mix of worry and curiosity.

Honey caught them up in a minute, and Tadashi could see them taking it all in. Their faces indicated that they were itching to say something; the only question was who would be first. 

No surprise. GoGo won. 

"Listen to me, Tadashi," she said, her tone sharp. "No offense, but if I had a younger brother or sister who went out doing stupid shit like that, you'd be damn sure I'd be tracking them too. I also wouldn't give a shit if they found out. I'd rather have a pissed off sibling than a dead one."

"GoGo!" Honey cried.

Tadashi squirmed in his chair. GoGo was not one to mince words, that was for sure. But there was an element of truth to what she was saying. By now, Tadashi had lost count of how many times he'd reached Hiro just seconds away from getting his skull smashed to bits. Having the trackers was a matter of life or death for him. The very thought of one day being too late, of finding Hiro battered beyond recognition, lifeless on the ground, was enough to send a crippling chill straight to his bones. 

"I have to agree with GoGo," Wasabi said. "Although, maybe not in those words." He gave her a disapproving look.

"My _point_ ," GoGo shot back, "is that, Tadashi, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to protect your brother. And I know you feel like you owe him an apology, but guess what? You don't. You didn't do anything wrong, so stop beating yourself up. Hiro will get over it."

Tadashi sighed. If only it were that easy. 

"Everything will work out," Honey said, echoing what he had told himself. "Believe me."

"You're right," he agreed with a small nod. "Thanks, guys. I think I'm gonna head out; see what's going on at home. How much do I owe for the food?"

Wasabi held out his hand as he reached for his wallet. "Don't worry about it, man."

"Wha- No. You guys bought all that stuff. I have to at least-"

"Tadashi. We got it covered. It's fine."

"I appreciate it," he said, getting up. "Lunch is on me next time, okay?"

"Deal."

Tadashi hurried to store away all his tools and a half-modified Baymax in his room. Then he grabbed his bag and jacket from the hook behind the door and flew out of the lab. 

Mounting his scooter, Tadashi stared down the road in front of him. If he said he felt less conflicted after talking with his friends, he would be lying. Give Hiro some space, or try to get through to him again? He wasn't sure, but he had the entire ride back to figure it out.

* * *

He arrived at the café just in time to coincide with the daily lull in activity. The tables were still full, but compared to the morning rush, it was a manageable peace. The swarms of people who crowded the eatery to get their caffeine fix had tapered out, leaving with their drug of choice in double-insulated cups, along with white paper bags stuffed with baked goods. Tadashi parked his scooter against the side of the garage and stepped into the warm air of the café. He was thankful for the break in customers today. It would give him a chance to scope out some information about Hiro without taking too much time from the needs of the business. Aunt Cass was at the far end, serving up two steaming cappuccinos and an éclair to a couple at a corner table. After some pleasantries were exchanged, she went back to her post and Tadashi moved in. 

"Hey, Aunt Cass," he said, approaching the counter where she stood. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hi, honey," she said, looking a little surprised to see him. She slipped the notepad she used for orders in her apron pocket. "You're home early."

Tadashi had to be careful; act casual and choose his next words with diligence. Nothing that would cause his aunt to worry about her youngest nephew. "Y-yeah. I finished ahead of schedule and thought I'd come home. Maybe do something with Hiro." He paused. "Have you seen him?"

He gauged her reaction, and felt his stomach drop as her smile faded. That was a bad sign. Already he had failed. "Not since this morning," she said. Her gaze flickered to her shoes for a second, before returning to look at him. "I went to the kitchen to grab something and he was there. But something was... off. He was so quiet. And he didn't even want breakfast."

"Really." It was more of a statement than a question. Hiro often joked that the day he turned down food was when you knew that something was wrong. He didn't remind Aunt Cass of that.

"Do you think he's okay? Did something happen last night? I asked him, but now that I think about it, he never gave me an answer. I was so busy, I..." her words trailed away as tension creased her forehead.

"Nothing happened," Tadashi said, although he wasn't sure how convincing he sounded. Further explanation died on his lips. He didn't know what else to say that wouldn't be a bold-faced lie. She would figure him out anyway; the woman was a human polygraph.

"I don't know what it is about that library," she mused. "I couldn't get him to pick up a book when he was younger for anything; now he spends hours at a time there."

Tadashi swallowed, remembering the pretense that Hiro had concocted. "Right. I-I don't know. I'll go check on him, if you want." _Though I'm_   _pretty sure I'm_ _the last person he wants to see._

Cass sighed. "Maybe... maybe it's just a teenager thing, you know?" She looked at him with the hopeful sadness that he would agree, if nothing but to alleviate her own concerns.

"Yeah." The reply was brittle, and he prayed that she didn't pick up on his shaky confidence.

"Can you take this to him?" She reached next to the cash register and handed him a plate with a jelly doughnut wrapped in a napkin. The sticky raspberry filling oozed from the sides of the golden pastry and the paper had splotches of dried oil. "He has to be hungry now. Try to get him to have a little, even if he says no. Promise?"

"Sure. I'll let you know. Don't worry, okay?"

The bell above the door jingled, signaling the arrival of a new customer. Aunt Cass patted his arm as a silent thanks and went to greet them, a refreshed smile on her face. 

He started up the stairs, and the buzz of chatter from the café melted away, leaving him with just creaky floorboards beneath his shoes. On the second level, he bypassed the kitchen and made a beeline for the living room. The television was on, the volume just a hair above audible. He stood by the side of the couch and saw his brother huddled under their aunt's blanket. His raven hair was poking out every which way, swallowing up a section of sofa. His eyes were glued to the screen, seemingly entranced by the infomercial playing out before him. It was a new line of shampoos and conditioners; "breakthrough" products that guaranteed shinier and fuller hair in five washes or less.

"You thinking of buying that?" Tadashi asked with a light chuckle. He waited for a response, but there was nothing. No sound, no movement, no acknowledgment of any kind that he was even there. He might as well have been a ghost. Tadashi gripped the plate tighter.

"Still not talking to me?" He couldn't help the disappointment that bled into his words. Tadashi had hoped that a few hours apart would soothe things over between them. That it would give Hiro a chance to settle down and understand the true motives behind his actions. But it was clear that that was just wishful thinking.

He went around the couch and set the dish on the end table where Hiro could reach. "Aunt Cass sent this. She wants you to have some."

Hiro didn't reply, instead rolling over on his opposite side, back to Tadashi. That was it. Hiro could hold a grudge until the cows came home, but he couldn't stand another minute of this silent torture. 

Tadashi took a tentative step toward him. He opened his mouth to speak, and GoGo popped up in his mind, wagging a finger at him. He forewent her advice. "Hiro, I'm sorry. _Please._ " He was practically begging, one second away from getting on his knees. "Hiro, look. You know that I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. But you left me with no choice. You're smart. Why don't you get it? Did you really think I was just going to leave you out there with the wolves? Huh? We have to talk about this. You can't ignore me forever." 

Hiro twisted around, eyes flaming. Golden specks flickered against his chocolate irises in startling contrast. His jaw was taut.  _Seething._ That was the only way he could describe him. _"Leave me alone, Tadashi."_   His name was poison on his brother's tongue.

He kicked the covers away and stood up, shooting daggers at Tadashi that pierced his chest, slicing through wounded flesh straight to his heart. Hiro stalked up the stairs, and a moment later, came the resounding slam of their bedroom door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! Please review!! ^-^
> 
> Once again, I so appreciate everyone who sends me a review/kudos. You all keep me encouraged and motivated! ILY all <3
> 
> P.S (I AM SO LATE, BUT). CONGRATULATIONS TO BH6 FOR WINNING THE OSCAR FOR BEST ANIMATED FEATURE! (I may or may not have cried a bit, whoops)
> 
> Also, check me out on Tumblr [HERE](http://princessofnewcorona.tumblr.com/) :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5!
> 
> I do not own any BH6 characters (whomp)
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a review/kudos! It means so much to me! :)
> 
> I'm absolute trash for not updating sooner, so I hope these 8,000+ words makes up for it lol 
> 
> Note: I have this HC that Wasabi is crazy superstitious about all the classic things (broken mirrors, walking under a ladder, opening umbrellas inside etc)

* * *

When Tadashi brought the empty plate down to the café, Aunt Cass was elated. All her doubts regarding Hiro's health disappeared at the sight of some remaining crumbs. Tadashi didn't have the heart to tell her that he was the one who polished it off. Nor to disclose what transpired between him and Hiro. It wouldn't be right for him to dump it on her. Not that he could, anyway. He was still bound by an unspoken decree; a law that existed only in their minds. And a moldy notebook somewhere in the catastrophe of Hiro's side of the room.  _The Hamada Brothers Rulebook_. All 457 of them. They thought them up one summer, often sacrificing sleep to write them all out. At first, it was just a fun way to pass the time. But as they got older, it became the framework for how they lived their lives. That same fall, the bathroom flooded and ruined the notebook. From then on, they spent weeks committing them all to memory. It took a while, but they were all there, stored away in the recesses of their minds. One rule stood out to him now. 

_Hamada Brothers Rule Number 49: Secrets shall not be shared with Aunt Cass **.**  Disregard for said rule results in the offender assuming all chores of the other for one week (or longer, depending on the severity of the crime)._

Going off of that, Tadashi would be doing Hiro's laundry for the rest of his life. 

"I think I'm gonna close up a little early," she told her eldest nephew. "We could have some dinner and watch a movie. We haven't had a family night in a while. Where's Hiro?" 

Tadashi had no choice but to break the news. "He's in his room. I don't... I don't think he's gonna come down."

She frowned, and the same uneasiness came over her features. He could tell there was something else she wanted to say. Questions she wanted answers to. It was written on her face, but she let it all go in favor of a single syllable. "Oh."

"But you and I could do something," he supplied. "Like how we used to when I was little. You'd put Hiro to bed and then we'd play board games or bake cookies. Remember?" He needed to keep the mood light for her sake. Maybe for his, too. 

"Of course. That'll be fun, sweetie. Hiro can join us if he's up for it later." 

"Definitely." Tadashi did a once-over on the café. There were a handful of people scattered around. A couple university kids studying in the back; a businessman glued to his tablet. "In the meantime, can I help with anything down here?"

Tadashi needed a distraction, and so he was glad when his aunt put him to work. He spent the next two hours tidying up and preparing for the next day. He swept and mopped the floor, wiped down the tables, and washed dishes. Then, he cleaned the glass of the display case, erasing all traces of fingerprints. Finally, he updated the specials for the week on the chalkboard that hung on the wall.

The first time he was able to rest was when the last customer filtered out. 

They sighed in unison. Tadashi threw the rag across his arm into the storage room and took a seat at the nearest table. 

Aunt Cass flipped the sign on the door to 'closed' and went to the cash register. She collected the money and tucked it into an envelope to put away for safekeeping. The practice was the result of a single event ten years before. When the café was just starting out, a trio of teenage robbers descended on the city. They targeted small businesses, striking in the dead of night. The Lucky Cat was the last place they hit before police finally caught them. No one got hurt, but it left her wary. Tadashi didn't remember much about the break-in and subsequent arrest. Except for hearing that the three kids received light sentences due to their ages. He stayed awake for weeks after that, a baseball bat near his bed at the ready. Even though Aunt Cass installed a sophisticated alarm system, he was terrified that they would come back. He was only eleven at the time, but he needed to protect his family. Especially his brother. A decade later, that mindset hadn't changed. Even at fourteen, Hiro was still so tiny and vulnerable in his eyes. From the moment he was born, Tadashi vowed to always watch out for him, no matter what. He never imagined that honoring his promise would backfire the way it did.

"Thanks for helping me out, honey," Aunt Cass said. She turned the key to lock the machine. "I appreciate it. I think the weekends are even busier than the weekdays."

"No problem. Is there anything else?" He looked around. Now that he thought about it, he should have refilled the sugar packet holders. Or restocked the individual bags of potato chips on the metal rack.

"Nope. It can wait until tomorrow." She rested her elbows on the counter. "So, I don't know about you, but I am starving. What're you thinking for dinner? Your pick."

Tadashi said the first thing that came to mind. "Chicken wings?"

Aunt Cass smiled, an understanding in her eyes. "Sounds good. I'll be right back." She left the counter to grab the package of frozen wings from the kitchen.

When she was out of sight, Tadashi took his phone from his pocket. There wasn't much time before she'd be back. He scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for. 

_We're having your favorite for dinner. We'd really like for you to eat with us._

He waited all of ten seconds before sending another message.

_Hiro. Please? I'm sorry. I don't know what else you want me to say._

There was the possibility that Hiro didn't have his phone on him at the moment. But there was the even bigger possibility that he was just flat-out ignoring him. Tadashi tried again.

_Aunt Cass is worried about you._

_..._

_I am too._

From upstairs, Tadashi heard the freezer door shut. This was his last chance to get any sort of response from him. 

_Do you want me to bring you something? Let me know, okay?_

Tadashi typed out a final note before putting his phone away.

_Love you._

* * *

Dinner was ready in less than an hour. Aunt Cass set the platter of hot wings on the table. Along with a bowl of vegetable fried rice and a basket of flaky croissants. The aroma from the chicken made Tadashi's eyes water. The spice rub she used was potent. 

Up until that point, Tadashi had been more than ready to eat. But when he saw the food laid out in front of him, his appetite vanished. The doughnut from earlier retaliated, settling in his stomach like a small boulder.

Hiro's empty chair beside him was a constant reminder of the situation. And that he was the reason for it. Fatigue took the place of his hunger. All he wanted now was to lie down, but he couldn't. He had to force himself to eat. Aunt Cass overextended herself to cook, even after being on her feet all day. It wouldn't be fair to get up and leave. She was more tired than he was.

Tadashi speared a chicken wing with his fork and dropped it onto his plate. It felt strange having Hiro's favorite food without him. Tadashi requested them as a special order, in the hopes it would coax Hiro out his room. That always worked, until tonight. 

Aunt Cass took her seat and slid a tall glass of milk his way. "You're gonna need this," she warned. There was an innocuous hint of mischief in her tone. 

He eyed the lone wing on his plate, knowing what awaited him. Raising it to his mouth, he took a small bite. The red-hot habanero sauce did not disappoint. In seconds, the entire lower half of his face was numb. It was akin to swallowing a campfire. He coughed, reaching for the glass. Hiro made a bet every time that he could make it through the entire meal without a drink. He would start off strong. But after the third wing, he was downing half a gallon of milk at record speed. 

"You weren't kidding," he said, voice wheezy. The wings had the power to knock the wind right out of someone.

"I never do when it comes to the secret family recipe," she said with a grin. Her gaze went to the three dishes that crowded the small circular table. "Do you think I went overboard? I made enough because I thought maybe Hiro would be down by now..."

"Nah." He waved away her uncertainty. "You know Hiro. He loves leftovers. It'll be gone before you know it."

* * *

When they cleared the table, the two moved to the living room. No energy to make a decision, Tadashi let Aunt Cass select the movie. Without hesitation, she popped in the disc of her favorite romantic comedy. It was the classic tale of girl-meets-boy. A somewhat cliché story with just enough humor and heart to make it endearing. Over the years, she imparted her love for those sort of films onto her oldest. They were sweet, and Tadashi was not too proud to admit that he enjoyed them just as much as she did. 

As the plot unfolded, he saw her glance at the stairs every few minutes. She was hoping that Hiro would be there, not wasting a second to wriggle between them and devour the rest of the popcorn. So was he. He could picture it. Hiro would roll his eyes and make gagging noises whenever the couple onscreen kissed. He would flick kernels at Tadashi's face and try to see how many he could catch in his mouth. That would earn him a gentle pillow to the face from their aunt. Nevertheless, he would continue, egged on by their obvious amusement. It was sometimes hard to remember that there was still a kid beyond that paper that certified his genius.

Tadashi laid his head on Cass' shoulder. That was his job -- consoling others even when he couldn't do it for himself. That's how it had always been, ever since his parents died. He knew what heartache felt like. If he could help lessen someone's grief in any way, he would. Tadashi always put others ahead of himself. Their happiness was more important to him. For some, it was a noble quality. To others, he was "naïve." The "nice guy" just asking for people to take advantage of his kindness. He heard it more often than he would have liked, but he didn't let it bother him. He got his joy from seeing people smile. They didn't understand that. His thoughts drifted to Hiro. It killed him to know how unhappy his brother was. Even more so because he was the source of the problem, and he didn't know how to fix it.

Honey's words came back to him:  _Everything will work out. Believe me._  While he was grateful for her assurance, he wished he had her confidence. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure of anything. 

* * *

The credits rolled, an upbeat pop song playing in the background. Aunt Cass was fast asleep. She shifted over the span of ninety minutes and was lying down. One arm dangled over the edge of the sofa, the other tucked under her cheek. She was snoring, the sound resembling Mochi's purr. As far as anyone was concerned, she was out for the count. 

Careful not make noise, Tadashi clicked off the television. He stood up, stretching muscles that stiffened from sitting too long. As a test, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times. The feeling in his jaw returned, the numbness from dinner subsiding.

Tadashi draped the blanket over his aunt and stepped into the kitchen. He dumped the unpopped kernels into the trash and rinsed the bowl clean. He left a single light over the stove on, just in case, and shuffled upstairs. Exhaustion tugged at his bones. It wasn't that late, but he was going to use the opportunity and try to get a good night's sleep. Those were few and far between. 

Passing Aunt Cass' room, he ascended another set of steps. They were narrow and creaky, leading to the attic. The house was a one-bedroom, and with the café taking up a third of the square footage, there was no additional space for a broom closet, let alone a second bedroom. He recalled Aunt Cass' guilt when she set them up the day they moved in. Granted, it was beyond her control. But that didn't stop her from fretting. Here were two scared, traumatized kids, and she  _put them in the attic?_  Ever the peacemaker, Tadashi would pat her arm and tell her that the attic was cozy. And that he liked sharing with Hiro. He figured out that she thought he was saying it just to boost her spirit, but it was true. In a split second, their lives changed. It was a comfort having his brother nearby. 

The door to the bedroom was open, light spilling out onto the weathered mahogany. He went in. With Hiro's bed in direct view of the door, that's what his eyes went to first. He saw Hiro curled up on the bare mattress, sleeping. His knees drawn to his chest, arms limp at his side. The window above his headboard was open, allowing a cool breeze to flow through. Along with the sounds that came with the territory of a bustling city. Horns honking; occasional distant shouts; the general roar of cars and pedestrians rushing around. 

He trod over to his brother, careful to avoid a bundle of sheets near the foot of the bed. He almost tripped over a pillow. Tadashi didn't understand. Why did Hiro take them off? Aunt Cass changed them less than a week before. They weren't dirty.

Tadashi reached to shut the window, and Hiro fidgeted. He glanced down. Even in sleep, Hiro looked agitated. Anxious lines carved into his forehead, mouth curving into a small frown. His brows furrowed for a moment, and he turned over to his back. The light caught his face at an angle. That's when Tadashi saw them: Dried tears on his ivory skin. Two frozen rivers that trailed down his cheeks. Tadashi felt a twist in his gut. His hands fell away from the window. He ran a gentle thumb across the back of the younger boy's hand. Hiro whimpered, his fingers twitching in response. 

Afraid to wake him, Tadashi retreated. He laid down on his bed and pulled the covers over him. He closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep. He couldn't if he tried. 

* * *

Hiro woke to a monsoon. Rain hammered against the house, shaking the foundation. It rushed off the shingled pagoda roof in sheets. Ribbons of water streamed down the windowpanes, casting shimmery reflections across his bed. Vision still fuzzy from sleep, he maneuvered his eyes up. The sky was one raging thundercloud, dark and brooding. A rumble in the distance sent a tremor up his spine. He sat up with a muted hiss. The pain in his ribs intensified overnight. It was an acute, stabbing sensation that made any movement grueling. He shifted to the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. Gravity now pushing on him, a dull ache pulsed at the base of his skull. 

"Good morning."

Hiro turned and saw Tadashi standing by the door, dressed and ready to go. His face was solemn, holding his baseball cap in his hands. Despite the distance, Hiro could see dark circles hollowed out underneath his eyes. Knowing Tadashi, he was up all night working on some upgrade for Baymax. Though he denied it, Tadashi was just like him in that regard. Once he set his mind to something, he saw it through to the finish. Sleep could wait.

"Morning," he murmured, averting his gaze from his brother's somber expression. Hiro felt the tension that stifled the air between them. It settled on his chest like a lead weight.

"Um, Aunt Cass is making breakfast. We have to hurry, though. No scooter today, so we gotta catch the cable car. Just come as soon as you're dressed. I'll be downstairs." Hiro clutched at the mattress, listening for the door. It shut behind him with a discernible click. Hiro looked back and let out the breath that he wasn't aware he'd been holding.

It hurt to hear the way Tadashi spoke to him. It wasn't mean or clipped. Just... different. Professional. Guarded. Like he chewed and digested every word before daring to say them out loud. Any other day, he would have squeezed him in a bone-crushing hug as a morning greeting. Now he kept a prominent space between them, like they were strangers. Not that Hiro could blame him. The memories from yesterday were fresh in his mind. How he'd grit his teeth and shot venomous glares at him. How he'd slammed the door hard enough that the neighbors could hear. How he'd cried himself to sleep because he hated himself. 

Steeling himself, Hiro got up. He took a new pair of jeans and socks from his drawer before slipping into the bathroom. Dropping the clothes to the floor, Hiro turned on the faucet to the sink. The steady flow of water was static to his ears. He filled his cupped hands with the cool liquid, splashing it on his face over and over.

He shut off the tap and gripped the edge of the vanity. His reflection in the mirror stared back at him, cold and unforgiving. Remnant droplets of water slid down his cheeks. Tadashi didn't deserve to be the target of his anger. It was unfair and misdirected. He was the innocent one here. But that fact was far from unknown. It was always Hiro who stuck his nose where it didn't belong. Tadashi was the model citizen; a shining example of upstanding character. Hiro knew what he had to do: he needed to forget. The sooner he forgot about what happened, the better off it would be. 

 _Accept it and move on. Save everyone the trouble of dealing with_ **your**   _mistake. They have more important things to worry about._

Hiro kept his sweatshirt on and changed into the jeans. After pulling on the socks, he grabbed his backpack and hurried down to the café. 

* * *

As expected, the place was swamped. It seemed as if everyone in the city decided to use the café as shelter from the storm. Hiro saw Tadashi at the counter. He was busy ringing up customers and taking orders. Aunt Cass probably wrangled him into helping out for a few minutes. Keeping his head down, Hiro navigated through the crowd. He muttered quick 'hellos' to the few patrons who recognized him, but nothing more. He still couldn't look them in the eye. 

He reached the front of the café just as Aunt Cass came out from the back room. She was carrying a new case of bottled water to replenish the beverage cooler.

"Morning, sweetie," she said, pushing an auburn lock of hair from her eyes. She sounded a little out of breath. 

"Hi." Hiro fiddled with the strap of his bag. He slung it over his shoulder, but it slipped down a second later.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, setting the water on the counter. "We missed you at dinner last night."

Hiro glanced at Tadashi. Now he was at the other end, tending to the coffee maker. Hiro wasn't even sure if his brother noticed that he'd arrived. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm sorry... about that. I... I'm much better now." 

"Oh, good." There was a sigh of relief behind her words. "You must be starving, though. My poor baby. You hardly ate anything yesterday." 

"No, not really. It's--" At that moment, Hiro's empty stomach decided to make itself known. It growled, contradicting his denial. His cheeks reddened at the noise.

Cass chuckled, the corners of her mouth pulling upward. "Is that so?"

She pressed a foil-wrapped sandwich that was on the counter into his palm. It was still warm. "Breakfast. Most important meal of the day. Oh, and lunch." She handed him a brown paper bag with his name scribbled across the bottom. "It's leftovers from dinner. Your favorite."

Hiro accepted the food with a half-smile. "Thanks." 

Aunt Cass mirrored his expression and then glanced outside. She shook her head. "I swear, this rain came out of nowhere. Speaking of, you guys should get going. The cable cars won't be running as much today and I don't want you to miss your ride." Cass then turned her attention to her eldest. "Hey, honey?"

"Yeah?" Tadashi called back. Now he was foaming milk for a latte. The whirring of the machine overshadowed his voice.

"Come on," she said. "Time to go. You're going to be late for school."

"Coming." Tadashi passed the drink to the waiting customer and removed his apron.

Moving from behind the counter, Tadashi stopped beside his aunt. He stole a glace at Hiro before looking up again. "It's a madhouse in here," he said, surveying the crush of people under the bill of his cap. "I wish I could stay and help out some more."

"Don't worry about it. It'll let up soon. Now scoot. Go out the front. That's where the umbrellas are. Be careful."

Tadashi gave her a quick side-hug. "Alright. See you later, Aunt Cass. Love you." 

"I love you, too. Have a good day." Cass then bent down to Hiro's eye level, placing two gentle hands on his shoulders. Hiro had to fight the reflex of shying away from her touch. "Make sure you eat, sweetie. You have to feed that big brain of yours." She leaned in and kissed his forehead. Drawing back, she wiped off the lipstick with her thumb. "All gone. Okay, you better run."

"Bye, Aunt Cass."  With a fleeting wave, Hiro pivoted on his heel and followed Tadashi into the cramped hallway.

Hiro stood by the door as Tadashi searched for a umbrella big enough to shield the both of them. He glanced down at his feet, then back up. "Hey... Tadashi?"

His brother looked at him. The surprise that Hiro addressed him was evident on his face. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow an old pair of your shoes?"

Tadashi's gaze went to Hiro's socks. "What happened to yours?"

Hiro's breath got trapped in his throat. "Um... I... they don't fit anymore. I keep forgetting to tell Aunt Cass."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. One sec."

Tadashi opened the coat closet. Boots, flip-flops and other footwear lay in an abandoned heap on the ground. Dust flew everywhere from years of disuse. Tadashi coughed as he dug through the pile.

"How about these?"

He held up a pair of faded crimson low-tops. Hiro hadn't seen those since Tadashi was in high school. The yellowed rubber soles were beginning to separate from the rest of the shoe. He could see that they were a couple sizes too big, but he would have to make do with what Tadashi gave him. He was in no position to be selective. 

Hiro nodded, taking them from him. "T-Thanks."

"No problem."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiro saw Tadashi attempt a smile. "If you want, I could take you to get you a new pair this weekend. What do you say?"

Hiro finished tying the frayed laces and straightened up. "Sure. I guess."

"Great." Tadashi lifted a navy umbrella from the white ceramic vase. "Ready?"

* * *

Sitting together in the packed cable car, the two fell back into stagnated silence. Hiro wanted to tell Tadashi that he wasn't angry. That there was no resentment on his end. Let him know that he was  _sorry_. But no words formed. Instead, he kept quiet, watching the street signs whiz by. 

As the car took the last turn to the school, Hiro felt a pressure mounting behind his eyes. It became almost impossible to keep them open. His headache was worsening.

The two towers of SFIT's main building came into focus. Hiro leaned his face against the cool glass of the window, hoping to dispel some of the pain. It only made him aware of just how warm his cheeks were.

Slowing to a halt in front of the gates, the car's rusted bell clanged.

Tadashi nudged Hiro's arm to get his attention. "We're here."

He stood, seizing the metal pole as a brace. His vision swam and his insides lurched. He didn't know how he was going to make it through the rest of the day. 

* * *

Hiro rushed to the other side of campus the instant they got off the cable car. He didn't even stop in to say hello to their friends, as was routine. That left Tadashi to walk to the robotics lab alone. 

For Tadashi, Mondays were lab days. There were no classes, which meant he had the whole day to work on projects in his personal room. The space got a bit smaller since he started sharing with Hiro, but he didn't mind. He couldn't have been more thrilled when Hiro decided to join him at school. College provided Hiro with a whole new platform to put his put his smarts to good use. Not to mention a positive distraction from the lure of bot-fighting.

Lounging on the tattered purple armchair with his comic book, Fred spotted him first. "Dude!" He jumped up from his seat and raced over, catching him in a bear hug. Moving back, his grin faltered. "The guys told me about Hiro."

"They did?"

"We filled him in when he got here," GoGo answered, stepping over one of her discarded bike wheels. "Didn't want him to be the only one out of the loop." 

Honey and Wasabi were close behind. The four created a human wall, blocking Tadashi's path to his room. It was clear they wouldn't let him through without some information.

"What do you think?" Tadashi asked, directing the question at Fred. His opinion was important to him.

Fred sucked in a breath. "It's tough, man. But I'm pretty much with everyone else. You did what you had to do. Hiro doesn't exactly have a fear gene. He needs someone looking out for him. To be honest, he's lucky to have a brother like you who cares so much."

Tadashi saw the other three bob their heads in agreement. 

He shrugged. "I mean, yesterday wasn't great, but I think he's coming around. We actually talked this morning, so that's a good sign. He doesn't _totally_ hate my guts."

"Don't say that," Honey chided. "Hiro loves you. You said it yourself -- he's coming around. Even if it takes some time. Just give him a little space."

"You're right. Thing is... we've never gone more than an hour without speaking, you know? This whole thing just really sucks," he said. "Anyways, do me a favor. Don't tell Hiro that I told you, okay? Act normal when he comes in."

Fred gave a thumbs-up, and GoGo nodded.

"Mum's the word," Wasabi said.

Honey made a gesture of zipping her mouth shut. 

"Thanks." Tadashi sighed and adjusted his hat. It was an anxious habit that he developed over the years. "I guess I should finish up what I was doing yesterday. I'm adding a couple new features to Baymax's database."

The group then dispersed and went back to their respective stations. Except Wasabi.

"Hey, when you're done, would it be okay if he scanned me?" He trailed Tadashi to his room. "I hurt my calf yesterday and now it's killing me. Maybe he could tell me what I could do for it."

"Of course. What happened?" Tadashi asked, opening the door.

"Well, I was going down the street, when all of a sudden I saw this black cat at the intersection. Looking at me. Long story short, in my hurry to get away, my foot got caught in a pothole in the sidewalk and I tripped."

"Ouch. Well, I shouldn't be long. You can be the first patient for the upgraded system."

"Oh... good."

* * *

Hiro sat through his first class completely detached from the professor's lecture. His notebook was open, but it remained scarce. There was no information written pertaining to the lesson. He managed to scribble his name and the date in the corner of the page, but that was all. Hiro couldn't concentrate. His head felt heavy, like someone crammed an extra brain into his skull. By the time he made it to second period, he was sure it was going to snap off from his neck.

He rested his face in his hand, zoning in on his breathing. It was the only way to quell the nausea churning in his stomach. A tell-tale sign of an oncoming migraine. His eyelids got dragged down by some other force beyond his control.

_"Mr. Hamada?"_

There was someone calling his name. A woman. But it sounded far away. Like there was cotton stuffed in his ears.

_"Mr. Hamada...?"_

"Mr. Hamada." A pencil struck the edge of his desk, jolting him awake. 

A smatter of giggles rose up from a few students. 

"Nice nap, Sleeping Beauty?" a boy jeered from the back row. It took Hiro a moment to remember where he was.

"Sorry, Professor," he mumbled, sinking lower into his chair.

"Please see me after class."

Returning to the blackboard, Professor Yoshida glanced at the clock. "Okay, everyone. Class dismissed. Don't forget about your exam next week. It's forty percent of your grade, so I implore you to study for it. I will see you all Wednesday."

A barrage of hurried footsteps filed out. Hiro heard a girl behind him snicker. "Ooh... Teacher's pet is in trouble..." 

"Hiro." Professor Yoshida beckoned him over once the room was empty.

Using what little strength he had, Hiro traipsed to her desk. It was a miracle that his legs hadn't given out on him yet.

"Sorry, Professor," he said again, quieter than the last. He never felt so small. Like a molecular specimen under a microscope, getting scrutinized from every angle.

She smiled. "You're not in trouble, Hiro. I just wanted to check in; make sure everything's alright. You didn't participate in the discussion today. You're usually the one who kicks off the conversation. I was just a bit surprised, that's all."

Hiro shoved his hands in the pouch of his sweatshirt. They were so cold. "I know. I'm sorry." His words were automatic, like he was reading from a script. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. There was genuine concern in her tone. 

"Fine. Just tired. I went to bed late, watching a movie." Hiro surprised even himself at how easily the fib tumbled from his lips.

She chuckled. "I see. My son does the same thing. Alright, you may go. Have a good afternoon."

"You, too."

Nervous adrenaline thrummed in his veins. It propelled him out the door faster than he ever thought possible.

* * *

Out of the line of fire, Hiro took refuge in a vacant stairwell. It rarely saw foot traffic anymore, so he was safe from intrusive stares. For now. His mind spinning, he rested his head in his hands. He drew in a shaky breath. _ **What is wrong with you?**_   ** _You need get over it. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and toughen up._**  He sniffled, but quickly swiped at his eyes.

 ** _Don't you dare cry._**  

* * *

The rain had dried up as Hiro made his way across the quad. He could see the glittering structure of the robotics lab in the distance. The modern circular design contrasted the traditional brick-and-mortar or the other buildings. Occasional beams of sunlight penetrated the thick clouds, reflecting off of the steel exterior. 

As he entered the lab, the stench of motor oil hit him square in the face. Drills screamed at each corner of the room. Hiro yanked his hood up, muffling some of the piercing noise. 

He saw GoGo, Wasabi and Fred by Honey's chemistry table. They were watching as she combined different colored liquids into a beaker. The three took a collective step back when she pulled out the blowtorch. 

Hiro went in the opposite direction towards Tadashi's room before they noticed him.

Tadashi was standing near an inflated Baymax, clipboard tucked under his arm. He tapped a pencil against his chin, deep in thought. "Well... mm, no. Maybe if I reconfigure that, I can... Hiro!"

"Hey. What, uh, what are you doing?"

"I'll show you." Tadashi put the clipboard on his desk. "Baymax, initiate read-out function."

There was a beep, and the screen on the robot's chest lit up. He blinked twice, the command now spelled out on the monitor.  _Read-out function initiated._

"Wasabi was the first test subject," Tadashi said. "I know we usually wait to show each other any new upgrades, but it was kind of an emergency. Do you want to try it?"

Hiro blanched, shrinking back. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Baymax would come up with. Or his brother's reaction to it. "No. It's okay. You do it."

Tadashi's enthusiasm seemed to waver, but he continued with the impromptu presentation. "Ah, alright. Baymax, scan me."

They waited in awkward silence as the bot processed the request. After a few seconds, there was another beep. New words replaced the old.  _Scan complete._

Hiro squinted to read the diagnosis. 

_The patient, **Tadashi Hamada** , is showing a slight decrease in neurotransmitter levels. There is also an elevation in cortisol levels. Cortisol is a steroid hormone produced by the adrenal gland. It is released in response to stress and low blood glucose. Treatments include eating a well-balanced meal containing healthy fats, protein and complex carbohydrates. Other methods to reduce cortisol levels are consumption of black tea and meditation. _

He managed a smile. "Wow. That's really neat. You changed the coding, right?"

"Minor alteration," Tadashi said. "I'm also trying to figure out a way to be able to print. That way, doctors or whoever can add a hard copy of the patients' info to their medical record."

"Cool." Hiro toyed with the drawstring on his sweatshirt, twirling it around his finger. Words failed him. "Um... so..." 

"How was class?" Tadashi asked. "Your next one's at three, right? Aerial robotics?" It was clear he was doing anything he could to salvage the conversation. Hiro didn't get a chance to respond. 

"Hey, nerds." GoGo leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. She snapped her gum. "You two ready?"

"For what?" asked Hiro. He tugged at a stray thread until it came loose. 

"Lunch, genius. It's late and my stomach is going to cave in if I don't get some food soon. Wrap it up in here. Five minutes and we're gonna go, okay?" 

"I think I'll pass for today," Hiro said, although it was nothing more than a whisper.

The familiar click of high heels sounded down the hall. Honey appeared beside GoGo, pink dust in her hair, bright grin on her face.  _"Hola."_

"Hiro," Tadashi started, "what are you talking about? You don't really want to stay here by yourself, do you? Lunch is the only time we can all get together. The guys haven't seen you all day.  _I_ haven't seen you all day." His tone was bordering on exasperated.

"What's goin' on?" Honey asked, brushing away some of the dust with a flick of her hand. 

"He doesn't want to go to lunch," GoGo explained. 

"Oh. Why not?" Her question wasn't demanding or accusatory, but one of sincere curiosity. Even so, Hiro felt cornered. He struggled to find an excuse.

"It's just, I wanted to work on something. I've had it on my mind for a while now, and-"

"Can't you do that later?" Tadashi interrupted, defiant. "After class? You'll have plenty of time. I mean, lunch is only an hour, and-"

"Tadashi," Honey cut in. Her voice was unusually firm. She went over to him, her lithe fingers coming to rest on his shoulder. "Relax. He can stay back if he wants." 

"But-" 

"It's _fine."_  There was a fire in her green eyes, relaying a message that words couldn't. She then looked at Hiro."Hiro, it's okay. But if you change your mind, we'll be in the cafeteria." Her hand moved down Tadashi's arm and latched onto his wrist. " _Vamos_."

She dragged him toward the door, and Tadashi threw him a final glance before they left. His jaw was set in a hard line, but his body language said it all: disappointment. It read on his face, clear as day.

Alone, Hiro settled into a chair. He felt dizzy; lightheaded. Hands trembling, he pulled his backpack onto his lap. He took out the lunch Aunt Cass packed for him and popped the lid of the plastic storage container. The pungent aroma of soy sauce and spices overwhelmed his senses.

He ate three spoonfuls of rice and emptied the rest into the trash. Getting it down was like swallowing nails. 

Too anxious to sit, Hiro wandered around the room. His eyes swept over Tadashi's desk. Old blueprints and schematics from when Baymax was a prototype littered the workspace. He glanced at the robot standing in front of window. It was amazing, the thing his brother had created. Going on just an idea and pure tenacity, he achieved something that most people would have never even dreamed of. Hiro went over and reread what was on the display.

 _Slight decrease in neurotransmitter levels._  Shame bloomed in his chest. That was his fault. Tadashi had been so excited to show off his progress, and Hiro wrecked it. Moving away, Hiro leaned against the table where they stored all their tools. 

 ** _Hey, isn't it strange how Honey was so quick to let you go? That's not like her. Why do you think that is, hmm?_**  

Hiro froze, replaying the scene over in his mind. Honey thrived on the company of her closest friends. She would be the first to try any tactic she could think of to get him to come to lunch. Usually with the promise of gummy bears or some other treat that she knew he couldn't resist. But this time was different. She was so nonchalant about it, not putting up any kind of objection at all.

The horrible conclusion hit him like a freight train.

**_She knows. She knows, and she can't stand the sight of you. It's no wonder she left in such a hurry._ **

The humiliation boiled up within. Heat creeping up his neck, it pressed into every inch of him. It was an unrelenting drumbeat, pounding against his rib cage. 

In a burst of frustration, he grabbed the first thing he saw and flung it to the other side of the room. A tall glass container filled to the brim with nuts, bolts and screws. It shattered as it made impact with the ground. The earsplitting crash reverberated against the four walls. Hundreds of tiny shards skittered across the tile like a swarm of angry termites. The metallic pieces clinked when they hit the floor. 

Seeing the mess, a broken sob bubbled up from his throat. **_Look what you've done._**  Hiro dropped to his knees, arms wrapped around himself. Wetness stained his sleeves navy.

He dug the heel of his palm into his eyes to stop the flood, but it was no use. His tears were confirmation of his own weakness.

* * *

Hiro didn't move from his spot. He gathered anything that was within his reach and pushed it into a small pile. A miniscule sliver of glass became lodged in his finger.

Familiar voices caught his attention. He turned, and five recognizable silhouettes appeared outside the frosted door. Tadashi was leading the group. There was a creak, and the door swung open. He heard a gasp.

"Oh, my... God. Hiro?" 

Hiro looked up at him, bracing for the deserved scolding. But he didn't get one. 

Tadashi walked in, glass crunching under his sneakers. "Are you okay? What happened in here?"

"I bumped into the table an-and it fell. Sorry." The apology was half-hearted, but not for lack of remorse.

"I'll get the broom," Honey said. She rushed off to the supply closet. The others stood back, watching in concerned silence.

"I-I tried to get some stuff." Hiro motioned to the glass fragments that he'd collected.

"Hey, look. Don't worry about it. I'll finish cleaning. Your class is starting soon."

Tadashi reached out to help him to his feet, but Hiro jerked his arm away.

"It got canceled."

 ** _You're such a fucking liar._**  

"Canceled?"

Hiro nodded, the sharpness in his voice dissolving. "Y-Yeah. So, um, can we go home? I just... I want to leave." 

Honey came back, broom and dustpan in hand. She held them out to him. "Tadashi?" Wasabi stepped forward, taking them from her.

"Hey, why don't you guys head out? We'll take care of this."

"Are you sure?" Tadashi asked.

"Not a problem," assured Wasabi. "And we'll lock up before we go. Really. It's no big deal."

A moment of consideration passed before Tadashi accepted the other man's offer.

"Alright. Thanks. Come on, Hiro. Let's go." He sounded weary.

Hiro's legs were gelatin at this point, and it forced him to rely on his brother for support.

Tadashi put a protective arm around him, keeping him upright. Even he could tell he was having trouble walking.

Hiro could hear his friends whispering behind him as they swept up. The gentle tinkling of broken glass mingled with their hushed voices.  

He couldn't make out the words, but he knew exactly what they were saying. 

* * *

"Hiro, we need to talk." 

They arrived home just in time, right before the sky opened up once again. The café was bustling one room over. Aunt Cass wouldn't be expecting them so early. That gave Hiro the opportunity to make his escape upstairs without raising any questions.

Hiro shrugged his bookbag off his shoulder. It hit the wooden floor with a heavy thud. "Not now, Tadashi."

He started for the stairs, but Tadashi grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt, halting him in his tracks. 

"Yes,  _now."_

Hiro wrenched out of his grasp, entire body tensing. He shot him a piercing glare. "Don't touch me. I don't feel well. I have a headache, okay? I just want to lie down."

Tadashi's hand lowered. The stern expression he mustered up, cracked. "Why are you doing this, Hiro?" he pleaded. "Why are you still punishing me? I said I was sorry."

That gave Hiro pause. He was right. So consumed by his own pathetic mess, Hiro didn't even realize how he was hurting his brother. Tadashi didn't deserve that. He didn't do anything wrong. The last thing Hiro wanted was to drag Tadashi down into his misery. 

"Are we really going to let this little thing tear us apart?" Tadashi continued. "I know you're mad, but-"

"I'm not mad." He said it with the sort of finality to make sure Tadashi didn't think he was just blowing smoke. He meant it. 

Tadashi looked surprised, stunned, even, at Hiro's words. "What?"

"I'm not mad," he repeated softly. "I mean, I was, but I'm not anymore. I just had a terrible day, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." 

Hiro sat on the steps and kicked off his damp shoes. The weather had taken on a serious toll on them. The already-worn material was now ruined beyond repair. He tossed them aside. They wouldn't last another day.

Tadashi squeezed in next to him, clasping Hiro's hand in his. They barely fit in the narrow space, legs pressed against each other, knees bumping. For Hiro, it brought back a stream of memories. Of crisp September mornings and shiny lunchboxes with cartoon characters plastered on the front. They took a photo together in that same spot at the beginning of every school year. It was a tradition that Aunt Cass adopted from their parents. Those snapshots in time hung on the walls in pretty frames. Both boys donning toothy grins and showing off their brand-new light-up sneakers.

"Listen," he said, "I would never do you anything to hurt you on purpose. Everything I do is because I love you, and I want to keep you safe. That's my number one priority. You know that, right?"

A seed of guilt planted itself in the pit of Hiro's stomach. It sprouted, twisting its gnarled vines around his lungs, making it hard to breathe. "I know."

"So... are we good?"

Hiro scratched at his skin, trying in vain to remove the speck of glass embedded in his thumb. "Yeah."

Tadashi smiled and ruffled his hair. He hesitated before asking, "Can I have a hug?"

"Sure."

As if it were possible for Tadashi's smile to grow any wider, he wrapped his arms around him in a gentle embrace. "Knucklehead," he said with a small laugh.

They stayed like that for a minute, before Tadashi shifted a bit, sending his elbow straight into Hiro's ribs.

Hiro bit his lip as the pain shot through his bones. A soft wince escaped from his mouth. Tadashi pulled back, and out of protective instinct, Hiro's hand flew to his side. _"Ow."_  

"What did I do? Hiro, I'm sorry. I-" His hasty apology died in his throat as something else caught his attention. 

Hiro felt his heart skid to a stop. The hem of his sweatshirt had ridden up. Before Hiro could stop him, Tadashi lifted the fabric all the way, revealing what Hiro tried so hard to conceal.

Purple marks mottled his skin; black and blue splotches stretching across the porcelain expanse. The result of metal-tipped boots meeting flesh. 

" _Jeez_ , Hiro. How did this happen?" There was a panic rising in Tadashi's voice as his eyes roamed over the injury.

"I told you. I bumped into the table today." Hiro did his best to keep his voice steady. He knew he had to play it off as no big deal.

"It looks like it was more than just a bump," he insisted. "Does this hurt?" Tadashi ran two fingers over the bruise. He prodded at it around the edges, where it was beginning to fade to yellow.

"Ah-" Hiro batted Tadashi's hand away. "Just a little. It looks worse than it feels, honest." Hiro pulled down his sweatshirt and got to his feet, holding onto the banister.

"Where are you going?" Tadashi asked, looking up at him. 

"To lie down," Hiro said. "My head is killing me. I had a long day."

He turned to go when Tadashi grabbed his arm. "Wait. Shouldn't we have Aunt Cass take a look at that or something? Or maybe-  _ugh_." Tadashi groaned. "I forgot. I left Baymax at school. He could have scanned you."

"No. I don't need Baymax," Hiro argued. "I'm fine. Now, please, let go."

Tadashi complied, freeing Hiro from his grasp. "You sure?"

"Positive. I'll be down in a few hours. Tell Aunt Cass I'm taking a nap."

Hiro climbed the rest of the stairs with careful movements. He glanced back just once, only to see Tadashi's worried gaze still fixed on him. Almost to his room, he heard Tadashi call after him about bringing some ice. He ignored it, shutting the door with a soft  _click._

There were fresh sheets on his bed. They looked so clean and inviting. As he crawled under the covers, Hiro breathed in the light, floral scent of the detergent that Aunt Cass used. He closed his eyes, and the powerful haze of sleep enveloped him. His entire mind and body ached for rest, and within a minute, he was out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up :))))
> 
> Mention of the Hamada Bros. Rules comes from the "Hiro and Tadashi" book (which I may or may not own..)
> 
> P.S. The BH6 prequel manga (Vol. 1) is now out in English and a must read okay. I did not sign up for that emotional roller coaster, let me tell you that
> 
> check me out on Tumblr [HERE](http://princessofnewcorona.tumblr.com/) :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 6. ENJOY. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT AND LOVE! IMPORTANT NOTICE BELOW. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: PLEASE READ FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY 
> 
> This chapter contains graphic descriptions of self-harm, descriptions of blood, victim-blaming, graphic descriptions of rape, and (brief) suicidal thoughts/attempt
> 
> Please be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Where did I go wrong; I lost a friend_   
>  _Somewhere along in the bitterness_   
>  _And I would have stayed up with you all night_   
>  _Had I known how to save a life."_   
>  _\-- How to Save a Life, The Fray_

* * *

_Hiro was drowning. The frigid waters swept over him, and he struggled to keep his head above the thrashing waves. His flesh stung from the bitter cold and his lungs crystallized. A glacier wormed its way around his heart. Oxygen was scarce. The tide rushed in, and savage currents took him prisoner. They dragged him far out to sea, until the coast was but a speck. He was useless to its gravitational pull. When he was brought under, he didn't resist. He didn't scream. Instead, he succumbed to the murky depths; its willing victim._

* * *

As the days passed, pretending got easier. Hiro became an expert at dodging questions and faking smiles. He kept everyone at arm's length, all for their benefit. He didn't want to subject them to his personal hell. For the most part, it worked. At school, he fed everyone around him some half-baked excuse as to why he looked so tired, and why he wasn't eating much, and they bought it. Yet, some were harder to convince than others. Among his friends, that person was Honey. Genial and discreet, the young woman was good at hiding her worry in well-crafted statements. 

_Hiro, you need to try this sandwich; it's so delicious. I'm gonna grab you one. Hang on._

_I'm so exhausted, oh, my gosh. My biochem class is killing me. I hope you got a better night's sleep than I did._

It was a valiant effort, but Hiro knew all her tricks. He understood the fact that it was just because she cared. But when her obvious attempts at siphoning information from him got to be too much, Hiro shut down. Ignoring her was the only option he had, save for losing his temper and lashing out. That was something he wanted to avoid. After a while, it seemed she got the message. Her subtle interrogations waned over time, before stopping altogether. Hiro wished he could say that that was all he had to deal with, but he knew that was just half the battle.

His family was another story. He couldn't avoid them. There was no place in the house he could go and hole himself up into. His room was not his own, and rules stated he couldn't lock the door to keep anybody out. At least not for long. Still, he employed the same measures he used for everyone else. He didn't speak much, and when he did, it was just one-word responses and little shrugs. Aunt Cass chalked up his taciturn attitude to puberty, which Hiro was grateful for. Except for the occasional inquiry on how he was feeling, she didn't press him for answers. She had a lot on her plate, and Hiro knew she preferred for Tadashi to take the reins on those subjects. Hiro got off easy with her, which left him ill prepared for the biggest challenge.

Tadashi operated on a different mode than their aunt. It was apparent that he wouldn't be satisfied until Hiro divulged every secret he had to his name. Hiro tried to stay calm and just brush him off. But sometimes, Tadashi got too nosy, and Hiro didn't hesitate to let him have it. That got his attention, and held his brother off from the constant harping. Hiro wasn't proud of his reaction, but he would deal with the guilt later. When his back was up against a wall, he didn't have any other choice.

Pretending got easier. But 'easier' was a relative term.

The nightmares came to him like a snake in the grass. Silent, waiting to strike and deliver their fatal blow. Hiro began to fear the dark because he knew what was just around the corner. He staved off sleep as much as possible, but he knew that that option couldn't last forever. He was right.

They were always the same, the nightmares. Pervasive, crippling, and  _real_. He lived the assault again and again. Felt it in such vivid detail, like it was happening for the first time. But with one glaring difference. 

_Before he could process it, Hiro was on the cold, wet ground. The four were on top of him, crushing his lungs under their weight. He couldn't breathe. Their faces were all glowing eyes and fang-like teeth. He tried to kick and fend them off, put he was powerless to their advances. His limbs felt like blocks of cement, heavy and absolutely useless. They tore at his clothes with sadistic joy. Petrified goosebumps rose up along his arms and legs. They held him down, intent on taking their sweet time. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear. His brain was screaming. Begging him to think of something, **anything** , to distract from the pain. Their rough hands traveled his body, leaving searing bruises in their wake. They marred his skin with their callous touches. The kind of touches that would stay with him long after they were gone._

_His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears. They only laughed and gagged him with a dirty rag to keep him from making any more noise._

_He fought for air, coughing and sputtering around the grimy cloth. Black spots appeared in his field of vision._

_Someone yanked it out a second later, but not without an earnest threat behind the action._

_"Shut up," one hissed. "You make one more peep and I swear to God, I will snap your fucking neck. And I don't want to do that..." his voice lowered to a sickening purr. "It's a very pretty neck, you know."_

_Hiro swallowed, tears sliding out in a continuous stream. The man slithered closer, like a serpent, his mouth stretched into a nauseating grin. "Don't cry now, sweetheart," he cooed with feigned sympathy. His breath was hot on Hiro's face, thick with the putrid stench of liquor. He forced Hiro's head to the side and began placing hungry kisses along the smooth expanse of his neck. Hiro could feel sharp teeth grazing his skin as slimy lips moved down. The man lavished his attention on the pulse point where Hiro's neck met his shoulder. He gave a lewd moan before trailing further south, finding the shallow dip and curve of Hiro's thin collarbone. Hiro whimpered, his_   _stomach churning_ _. If he had the strength, he would have vomited all over the pavement right then and there._  

_At last, the man moved away, but only so he could pass him off to the next person. "Oh, well, would you look at that," he sneered, scowling into the distance. "Someone's here to save the day..."_

_Hiro whipped his head around. What he saw made his heart stutter like a caged bird frantic to escape from its confines. Finally. Everything was going to be okay._

_Shrouded in a dense fog was Tadashi, standing under the flickering light of a lamppost. The fog absorbed the dim glow of the lamp, creating an ethereal orb around him. Tadashi looked like an angel - his_   _guardian angel. His savior._

_"Tadashi!" he cried. "Help me!"_

_There was nothing. No reaction of any kind from the other boy. It was as if he was a mirage; a figment of his imagination._

_"Nii-san! Please..." Hiro choked on the last word, panic constricting his airway._

_Hiro brought his hand up to his chest to calm his ragged breathing. He tried to scream again, but to his horror, realized there was no sound. His voice was gone, no way of calling out._

_But even though Tadashi couldn't hear him, Hiro knew that his brother could see him. Why wasn't he doing anything? Why wasn't he helping him?_

_Tadashi's visage remained faraway and stoic. And he didn't budge, giving_   _no_   _attempt to rescue him from the attackers' malicious clutches. He simply shook his head._

 _"Oh, Hiro... you brought this on yourself. You knew how dangerous bot-fighting could be, but you went anyway. If only you'd listened to me, none of this would have happened. What were you thinking?"  His brother's voice sounded so stiff and_   _detached; empty of any usual compassion. Without another word, Tadashi mounted his scooter and sped away from the crime scene._

_Hiro reached out for him as the loud rumble of the engine faded into the dark._

_No. Please. Don't leave me here._

Hiro woke up drenched in a cold sweat, T-shirt clinging to his frame like a second skin. He touched his face, feeling wetness spilling down his cheeks. His throat felt raw and sore, like someone had pumped battery acid down his esophagus. He stole a peek at his brother's sleeping form across the room. Hiro then turned back to stare at the blank wall, veiled in eerie shadows. With silence as his only company, an unwelcome visitor burrowed its way into the back of Hiro's skull.

_**He warned you.** _

Hiro bit down on his lip until the metallic taste of rust coated his tongue. Shaking hands grabbed fistfuls of blanket, gripping the quilted fabric until his knuckles went white. 

The voice he grew accustomed to got louder by the minute. It was distorted and distant, but it was his own. It mocked him, taunted him. Reminded him of all his wrongdoings, both old and new. He tried his best to block it out, but it proved useless. It evolved into something too powerful; something he couldn't control. Unable to fight it any longer, he gave in. Soon, it drowned out every last one of his thoughts. 

* * *

Hiro's desperation for a release consumed him. To purge himself of the demons that burned just below the surface. That's how he found himself on the floor of the bathtub, slim fingers wrapped around the sleek handle of one of his aunt's razors. He snuck into her room one night while she was still downstairs and Tadashi was out. Rifling through her cabinets, he came across a whole pack. She wouldn't miss one, he figured.

Lighting a match he stole from the kitchen, Hiro watched the plastic cover begin to melt and pucker under the heat of the small flame. The corners softened first, separating from the hold it had on the tool. From there, he made easy work of the little, purple shaver. He took the protective shield off and tossed it away. Warped and hollow, the piece gave a weak clatter as it hit the side of the ceramic tub. Hiro turned the instrument over, revealing the trio of shiny blades nestled inside the disposable head. In one swift motion, he struck the razor against the brushed nickel faucet. It snapped in half and the three blades fell out. They scraped the bottom of the tub as they landed by his feet.

Taking one in his hand, Hiro studied it with care, memorizing all of its characteristics. It was a simple design: a narrow, rectangular slice of stainless steel with sharp, treacherous edges. Unassuming from a glance, it was only when someone inspected it up close could they appreciate the devastation it was capable of. Curling his fingers around the blade, Hiro squeezed as hard as he could. He kept the pressure on, feeling one of the edges piercing his skin. There was a slight pinch that subsided into a dull sting. Hiro removed the blade, focusing on the miniscule droplets of blood pooling in the center of his palm. He wiped them away, but more filled its place in an instant. 

Steadying it between his fingers, Hiro then positioned the blade in the middle of his inner thigh. It was a covert place. Somewhere that no one would ever see. He pressed it into the designated point and dragged backwards. His papery skin split open, sticky red fluid beginning to drip down his leg. Hiro shifted the blade to an unblemished spot and repeated the process. Again and again and again. It should have hurt. The pain should have been too much for him to continue. But Hiro didn't feel much at all. A paralyzing numbness gripped him; a defense mechanism to protect him, he supposed.

When it was all said and done, there were eight cuts. Four on either leg, each one jagged and imperfect. Hiro looked at the new gashes with a sort of morbid fascination. Some trickled; some flowed. Some ran deeper and longer than others. The only constant was the blood. There was  _so much blood_. It painted the pristine, ivory tub in a slick, crimson sheen. The undeniable scent of iron hung in the air.

Needing to erase all traces of evidence, Hiro turned on the water. There was a squeak from the faucet, and the showerhead blasted him with an icy torrent. He didn't even flinch at the freezing rain biting at his back. 

The water cascaded over his arms and down his knees. It mixed with the blood, diluting it. The color transformed from a deep maroon to a pale orange. It swirled around his ankles before washing away down the drain, taking with it the sins of his actions.

Hiro had the audacity to believe that that would solve all of his problems. That last shred of teenaged cockiness that didn't want to let go. It was a foolish thought at best. He should have known that relief was only temporary.

The haunting urges returned with a vengeance. Those same demons that he thought he was rid of simmered under his skin. They delighted in his torment, driving him to the edge of a breakdown time and time again. 

Cutting became his outlet. An addiction; a drug. The only thing that gave him a semblance of control. When he couldn't get to his private stash to do the job, Hiro did the only other thing he could think of. He sank his fingernails into tender flesh and unleashed his fury. He tore at fragile scars and reopened old wounds. It was a methodical insanity. Like a force greater than himself possessed him. He wouldn't stop until his fingers ached and he saw red seeping through the cotton fabric of his shorts. 

But sometimes, even that wasn't enough. In brief moments, Hiro considered a permanent release. To be free from the anguish and shame that plagued every second of his existence. He could finally rest. And he would spare his family and friends the heartache of knowing the kind of person he truly was. Someone who allowed himself to be used and thrown away. Someone who was weak, and damaged, and unworthy of their love.

He held the blade a precarious distance from the bulging, blue vein on the underside of his arm. 

 ** _If you do it right, you'll hardly feel a thing. Then you'll never hear from me again. That's_**   ** _what you want, isn't it?_**

The promise of peace tempted him, and Hiro almost went through with it. It would have been easy enough. But the closer he inched the blade, the more his hand trembled. He had the foresight to think ahead. Who would find him? Tadashi? Or even worse, Aunt Cass? He could imagine the poor woman's scream as she came upon him. His body, limp and lifeless; pallid skin contrasting the brilliant red coursing down his arm. She would try to stall the bleeding, but it would be too late. Her youngest nephew, gone, without so much as a goodbye.

How could he do that to his family? Was he really that selfish? 

Hiro let the blade slip through his fingers. He then buried his face in the crook of his elbow, muffling the sobs that followed. The gravity of what he'd almost done came crashing down.

**_Coward._ **

 

 

Hiro was condemned to this life, and there was no one else to blame but himself.

* * *

Tadashi looked on as a slice of pearly moonlight illuminated his brother's troubled features. Hiro tossed and turned, scrabbling at the bedsheets. He was having another nightmare. They occurred on a frequent enough basis that Tadashi had a reason to worry. Hiro hadn't had persistent nightmares since their parents died. But even those were not as volatile as the ones he was experiencing now. Not by a long shot. Hiro thrashed back and forth, like he was trying to escape from something, or someone. The blankets twisted around his legs, often ending up on the ground. In the first few days, Tadashi went over to the other bed to wake him. When he did, Hiro pushed him away, refusing to accept any kind of consolation. The nightmares became so severe, that, a lot of times, Hiro wouldn't even stay in the room. Giving no explanation, he'd grab his pillow and disappear. When Tadashi asked where he was going, Hiro just mumbled an apology for disturbing him and darted to the floor below.

One night, Tadashi shadowed him. He crept down the stairs, making sure to avoid the final creaky step. He strained to see in the dark, the only light coming from the dingy bulb under the microwave. Daring not to breathe, Tadashi held onto the railing and waited. He heard rustling as Hiro settled on the couch. Then silence. It lasted for a while, long enough that Tadashi assumed Hiro had fallen asleep. He headed back for upstairs, when a sound made him freeze. It started off like a hiccup; a sudden gasp for air. There were only a few seconds of quiet before he heard it again. But the second time was much softer, chased by a sniffle. A subsequent whimper confirmed what Tadashi feared. 

Tadashi's protective nature took over, and he nearly bolted to the sofa to gather Hiro up in his arms. His brother was suffering, and he wanted nothing more than to hold him until he stopped crying. But the sobering reminder of the situation planted him in his spot. He knew he wouldn't get far. With his conscience chastising him the entire way, Tadashi retreated to the attic.

* * *

Baymax's red charging station stared at Tadashi from the floor of his bedroom. Running out of options, he thought about using the robot to perform a secret exam on Hiro. With sunken eyes and dark circles around them, it didn't take long to see the toll the lack of sleep was having on him. If Tadashi knew the problem, he could figure out the best way to help. He let the idea ruminate in his head before he dismissed it altogether. It wouldn't be right. A blatant invasion of privacy. That's what got him into trouble the first time. Still, his intentions behind the decision all originated from a place of love. When he mentioned his concerns to Aunt Cass, she just reminded him of Hiro's age.

 _"He's growing up,"_ she said.  _"Fourteen is not an easy time for anyone. He'll be back to his old self before you know it. I wouldn't worry too much, hon."_

Tadashi tried to take a step back and analyze the issue from a new angle. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was overreacting. But whenever he tried to relax and let it go, a little voice whispered in his ear to keep his guard up.  

* * *

Tadashi couldn't help but notice how thin Hiro had become. Endowed with a metabolism faster than the speed of sound, Hiro was always lanky. He never gained much in the way of muscle or body fat, yet his doctor maintained that he was in perfect health. However, his new scrawny appearance was approaching alarming levels. The bones at his joints protruded, emphasizing just how skinny he was. His ribs poked out, creating visible ridges along his sides. Hiro sat at the table for dinner, but he spent more time pushing the food around on his plate than anything else. At school, he followed a similar pattern. He just picked at his lunch, giving the illusion that he actually ate something. Tadashi didn't think it could get much worse, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

* * *

Hiro began declining every outing offer that Tadashi presented him with. From the movies to pizza to the arcade. Even a Ninjas game that Honey scored tickets to from some radio contest. When Tadashi insisted on a valid reason why he didn't want to go, Hiro just curled up into himself and asked to be left alone. By then, Tadashi knew he wouldn't get any more from him, so he dropped the third degree. Hiro's sudden aversion to get-togethers extended past social events. When they were all gathered, like at the lab, Hiro stayed back, as if he wasn't meant to be there. It was a gradual severing of contact with those closest to him, and Tadashi didn't understand why.

* * *

Hiro wasn't even bot-fighting anymore. In fact, Tadashi hadn't heard him mention anything about them in weeks. Megabot was nowhere to be found, the pint-sized machine a usual staple on Hiro's desk. Hiro didn't tinker in the garage anymore or show off any new blueprints. Tadashi supposed that that was a good thing, but something didn't sit right with him. It seemed strange for Hiro to just quit his favorite hobby with no warning. 

* * *

But perhaps the most telling clue that there was something wrong came from the startling change in Hiro's smile. Cheeky and mischievous, it always hinted that Hiro had something up his sleeve. Yet, he retained that bit of innocence, thanks to the little gap between his two front teeth. Once something he hated, Hiro grew to love the slight imperfection, learning to use it to his advantage. But those were a distant memory now. Every smile he put on was tight-lipped and artificial, never reaching his eyes like they used to. It was disingenuous in a heartbreaking way. It was just for show. A mere charade to appease.     

 

 

Tadashi watched the little brother he knew slipping away. And it terrified him to think that he was already too late to get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it. Please review. Everything will be okay, I promise.
> 
> P.S. I might have given the impression that Aunt Cass doesn't care/notice what's going with Hiro, and that's not the case. She knows Hiro is growing up, and in her eyes, she sees his attitude as him needing his own time to figure out all the changes that comes with it. She went through something similar with Tadashi, so she understands that kids need to have personal time to figure out who they are during that weird adjustment between kid and adult. She loves her nephews very much, and she knows that they know that they can come to her anytime with anything. I just didn't want anyone to think that she's so busy that she doesn't notice/doesn't care enough to investigate. 
> 
>  
> 
> check me out on Tumblr [HERE](http://princessofnewcorona.tumblr.com/) :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Phanciper, h, McSauces, Yay, LemonLark, Brenton, PJLover1551 and Serendie for their lovely reviews, and to everyone who left me a kudos. ILY all! <3
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> This chapter contains a Tadashi/Hiro moment near the end. However, if you read the tags, (and despite what I wrote in the first chapter notes) you'll see that I don't like classifying it as "Hidashi," as it is not romantic/sexual in nature. It is brief (and a crucial part of the plot), but if you don't like anything like that at all, feel free to click away, and I (hopefully) will see you back for Chapter 8.
> 
> Also, blood mention and reference to self-harm.
> 
> Enjoy! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _It's been a long time coming since I've seen your face_   
>  _I've been everywhere and back trying to replace_   
>  _Everything that I broke 'til my feet went numb_   
>  _Praying like a fool just shy of a gun_   
>  _Heart still beating but it's not working_   
>  _It's like a hundred thousand voices that just can't sing_   
>  _I reached out trying to love but I feel nothing_   
>  _Oh, my heart is numb_   
>  _But with you_   
>  _I feel again_   
>  _Yeah, with you_   
>  _I can feel again_   
>  _\-- Feel Again, OneRepublic_

* * *

"Spring break. Finally. Yeah." Tadashi chuckled. "Mm-hm. I know. Well, that's the thing. I can't wait to just do nothing. Give our brains a chance to relax. Though I'm sure for the first two days I'm not going to know what to do with myself." 

Hiro watched his brother's reflection in the glossy black screen of his computer. Tadashi was sitting on his bed, back turned. He had his cell phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he pulled on his sneakers.

"Oh, yeah. That's this weekend, right?" Tadashi continued, straightening up. "Um..."  

Hiro dropped his gaze from the monitor as Tadashi swiveled the upper half of his body to look over at him. "I don't know. I'll, uh, I'll ask, but... Yeah. Alright. See you soon. Bye."

There was a faint beep, and Tadashi disconnected the call. Hiro glanced up to see him making his way across the room. Tadashi paused a foot from the desk, his hands jammed in his pockets.

"Hey." 

Hiro grunted in response, giving the mouse a few rapid clicks to switch on the device. 

"That was Honey on the phone," Tadashi said. "We're all meeting up at the batting cages for a couple hours. Just to, you know, hang out and de-stress, from school and stuff. You wanna come?" He sounded hopeful, acting as if he hadn't been privy to the happenings of the past weeks.

The screen brightened, and Hiro typed in the password a bit more forceful than necessary. His brother wasn't stupid. Far from it. But he was relentless, cursed with a stubborn optimism that bordered on irritating. It went far beyond not wanting to go. Hiro didn't have it in him to get up and look his friends in the eye after what he'd done. He couldn't. It was bad enough he had to do it five days a week during school. He could only sustain an act for so long before it started wearing on him.

"No." That was the final answer, and Hiro could sense that Tadashi knew not to push him any further. 

"Okay." There was a hint of resignation in his tone, mixed with the unmistakable air of disappointment. "I'll, uh, see you later, then. Bye. Love you."

Hiro waited for Tadashi to leave the room before he moved. Hearing the sputtering of a motor, he went over to the window and peeked through the blinds' slats. Just in time to catch a glimpse of Tadashi peeling away from the curb on his scooter. The cherry red vehicle coasted along the street until it took a sharp right turn and vanished from sight.

_**I really don't understand why he keeps asking you. He's better off if you're not there, anyway. Your brooding would just bring everyone down.** _

Backing away, the calendar pinned to Hiro's wall materialized in his peripheral vision. The unfortunate truth stood out, printed in stark black and white. Hiro's stomach contorted, sending a painful wave of nausea through him.

It had been one month. One month since that night. Forcing a breath, Hiro turned his back as a familiar heaviness settled in his chest. It didn't matter how much time elapsed between the past and the present. The haunting memories would always be there. A phantom that devoured him whole, chaining him in a prison of regret and shame. The more he tried to convince himself to forget, the more Hiro realized that that was a childish fantasy. They were a part of him now, a debt he owed for his grievous mistake. Taking his schoolbooks in his arms, Hiro hurried from the room. He needed to get away; do something to occupy his mind and keep his hands busy, if only for a while.

* * *

Hiro flipped through several pages of his notebook, trying to memorize what he had written down. It all looked like a scramble of letters and numbers at this point. A jumble of formulas and equations that swirled around on the lined paper, making him dizzy.

Setting it in his lap, Hiro sighed and draped the back of his hand over his eyes. Nearly a week had passed already, yet Hiro felt like it had gone by in the blink of an eye. 

"Hey, sweetie."

He peeked between his fingers and saw Aunt Cass standing at the end of the couch. She had a plate piled high with fluffy scrambled eggs and a side of bacon in one hand, a glass of orange juice in the other. She set them both on the coffee table before turning to face him. "What are you up to?"

"Just some school stuff," he said, letting his arm fall into his lap.

"I don't miss that," she said with a smile, peeking over at his work. "Why don't you take a break from that for a bit; eat while it's hot?"

"I will," he fibbed, drumming his fingers against the paper. "In a minute. Just gonna finish this up." Hiro blinked and cracked the faintest smile, hoping she would direct her attention elsewhere. Though it was kind, her unwavering gaze seemed to go right through him. After a few seconds of internal persuading, it seemed to do the trick.

"Alright," Aunt Cass said. "Just don't wait too long. I have to run upstairs and start packing, okay?"

Hiro's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"That baking convention, remember?" Aunt Cass asked. She came around and leaned over the back of the sofa. "I've always wanted to go, but they're usually so far away. It's actually in San Fran this year, so I decided to see what it's like."

"Oh, right," Hiro said, picking some lint from his pajamas. "I forgot about that."

"You're not alone," she admitted with an airy chuckle. "I made the plans so long ago. Tadashi reminded me the other day." 

Hiro fidgeted in his seat at the mention of his brother. "Oh. Well, that's good. It should be fun." 

"I think so. I'm going to miss you guys, though. I've never been away from my babies for more than a few hours."

"We'll be okay," Hiro assured her, forcing a small smile.

"I know," she said, her hand coming up to tousle his hair. "It's just one night, and I'll be back tomorrow evening."

Catching a glimpse of her watch, Aunt Cass gasped. "I better hurry." She planted a kiss on the top of Hiro's head and squeezed his shoulder. "I'll be down soon."

Her delicate footsteps drifted away, a different set entering the kitchen a few minutes later. Heavier and more spaced apart, they advanced toward the living room until Hiro felt a shadow looming over him. A sudden sense of powerlessness gripped him, the memory of the attack playing out before his eyes. He recoiled, trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

"Morning," came his brother's sleepy greeting, punctuated by a brief yawn.

Hiro tensed, fiddling with the pencil in his hand. "Hi."

If he were being honest, Hiro was surprised that Tadashi was even speaking to him. For the past week, Tadashi had barely acknowledged his existence. That was if he was even home to begin with. Tadashi had gone out every day, often leaving early and coming back late. He never said where he was going; just a quick goodbye and he was out the door. And he didn't ask Hiro to join him anymore. Hiro supposed that was a good thing. But after the third day of receiving the cold shoulder, he started to wonder if that was what he truly wanted. But he just didn't know how to say it. So, he stayed quiet and continued to build up his walls.

Plopping down next to him, Tadashi leaned against the cushions with a sigh. "It's a beautiful day out," he said, gesturing to the window. It was all cloudless blue skies and bright sunshine that bathed neighboring rooftops. "Good news for us. The Cherry Blossom Festival is today. You're coming, right?"

_**Fuck.** _

Another thing Hiro had forgotten. The Cherry Blossom Festival. The annual event which ushered in the spring with the blooming of the delicate sakura trees. It was also the time to celebrate the rich Japanese culture that was so integral to the city's identity. Parades, kabuki performances, and fireworks were staples of the festival. Eager vendors set up kiosks on the avenues that saw the most traffic. Some displayed and sold handmade treasures crafted from fine materials imported straight from Japan. Others served up a variety of Japanese delicacies to sample. The San Fransokyo Symphony provided music, along with hosting karaoke contests throughout the day. There were also numerous activities that people could take part in. Everything from  _sake_  tastings and  _bunraku_ shows. To tea ceremony demonstrations, and workshops to learn the time-honored arts of ikebana and origami. With something for all ages, it was an occasion anticipated by thousands. One that Hiro had attended every year since he was born. 

"I-I can't," Hiro said quickly, getting up. "I have work to do." He transferred to the armchair closer to the fireplace. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he balanced the notebook on his legs.  

"Work? But it's spring break." 

_**He's so pushy. Why won't he get it through his thick skull?** _

"Yeah, well, my professor's a huge jackass," Hiro retorted. He could feel Tadashi narrow his eyes at him for his choice of words, but he didn't say anything. 

"What subject is it?" Tadashi asked after a minute, disturbing the uneasy silence that filled the space between the two. He sat forward, holding out his hand. "Can I see?" 

Reluctant, Hiro passed him the book. "It's calc. For engineers," he said, folding his arms.

Tadashi scanned the paper, chewing on his bottom lip. "This isn't so bad," he said, returning it. "I can help you with it tomorrow if you want. Come on." He waved his hand towards the stairs, indicating that Hiro should hurry up and get dressed.

"It's alright. I'm gonna skip it this time." Hiro turned his attention back to his assignment, failing to notice Tadashi's incredulous look.

"What?" 

Tadashi shot up from his seat and snatched the notebook out of Hiro's unsuspecting hands. "Are you kidding me?"

"Hey! Give that back, Tadashi." Hiro started to grab for it but stopped when he saw Tadashi's face. There was a dark glint in his eyes, and his mouth twisted itself into a hard scowl. Hiro had never seen him so upset. He shrank back, wishing he could disappear between the crevices of the chair, just like Mochi used to as a kitten.

Tadashi ignored his demand, holding the book just out of reach. "What do you mean you're 'gonna skip it,' Hiro? W-we go every year. It's tradition, or did you forget? It's already disappointing enough that Aunt Cass can't come, but now you're bailing, too? What's been going on with you lately, huh? It's like you're not even part of this family anymore. And what about our friends? They couldn't wait to hang out with you this week, and you totally blew them off. Every time I saw them, they kept asking, 'Where's Hiro? Where's Hiro?' And I had to come up with some ridiculous lie as to why you weren't there."

Hiro kept his head down, letting him rant. He deserved it. Any excuse or reasoning he tried to come up with seemed feeble at best. But that didn't mean he couldn't try. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice meek. "I just want to get it over with. The material's really confusing, and there's a test next week, and--"

Tadashi scoffed. "Don't give me that, Hiro. You know that neither of us is buying it. I mean, let's be honest. This?" Tadashi waved the book in the air. "This is child's play. I know you could do this in your sleep. And so do you."

Swallowing, Hiro lifted his head, meeting Tadashi's gaze. "I'm sorry." It was a pathetic response, something that he was expecting Tadashi to berate him for. not that he would have blamed him.

Rather, Tadashi's expression softened, and he brought his arm down to rest at his side. "I don't understand," he said. "I thought we were okay. I thought you forgave me. But it's obvious that you're still really angry. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"I'm not," Hiro insisted, anxious fingers curling to grip the fabric of his pajama bottoms.

"Then what is it, Hiro?" Tadashi pleaded, moving toward him. "Just tell me. Maybe I can fix it."

Hiro's heart stuttered against his rib cage. They were entering into dangerous territory. "I don't want to talk about it," he said, daring to maintain eye contact.

The same irritation from before flickered across Tadashi's features, melting away a second later. Instead, he sighed, giving a defeated shrug. "Fine. Whatever. Forget it." Tadashi tossed Hiro's book on the coffee table, narrowly missing the food that Aunt Cass had laid out. Hiro flinched.

As Tadashi passed by him, Hiro reached out and touched his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Hiro tried to smile, but he was sure it resembled more of a grimace. "Have a good time. Eat some _taiyaki_ for me, okay?"

Tadashi looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. "I've gotta go get ready," he said finally, pulling away from Hiro. He then went ahead, crossing the kitchen and disappearing back up the stairs to the attic.

Alone, Hiro moved back to the sofa and laid down. He left the notebook where it was, any ounce of motivation to finish his work long gone.

Lost in thought. Hiro dragged his finger back and forth along the seam of the couch. It didn't take long for him to notice how the fibers seemed to turn lighter or darker, depending on which way he smoothed them down. It was oddly relaxing, and soon, Hiro could feel his eyelids growing heavy. 

Hiro figured he must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, he heard the jarring sound of rubber soles against the polished hardwood. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and glanced over at the source of the noise. Tadashi was by the counter, dressed. He pocketed an apple and then grabbed the keys to his moped that were laying next to the fruit bowl. Pausing at the top of the stairs, Tadashi's gaze met Hiro's.

"Listen, can you just tell Aunt Cass that I left?" he asked, his voice coming off stilted. "She's still in the shower and I don't think she heard me."

Hiro nodded before facing away from him. "Yeah, sure," he said, concentrating on the framed family portrait above the mantle. Him, Tadashi and Aunt Cass from years past. Aunt Cass had her arms around Tadashi's shoulders while Hiro hung onto her by means of a piggyback ride. Hiro couldn't even remember how old he was when they took that photo. But judging from his round cheeks and missing teeth, he wasn't more than five or six. Those were happier times. Simpler. Before he fucked everything up.

"Thanks. I'll be back later." 

There was a slight jingling from Tadashi's keys as he jogged down the steps, followed by the squeak of the rusty hinges, and a soft thud as the door closed behind him.

Hiro tried to breathe, but the air felt stale, and it hurt his lungs. The silence that Tadashi had left in his wake was deafening. That was the final nail in the coffin, and Hiro knew that he had just created a permanent chasm between them. 

His fingers throbbed, finding their way to his thigh. Beneath the thin material of his pajamas, he could feel them. His scars. Bloodied and cracked lines that disfigured his skin. They stung and itched, still so raw from his latest release. They were the target of his self-hatred. An easy mark for his anger.

He felt the overwhelming desire to tear at them once more, to draw blood and punish himself.  

But just as he steadied himself, he heard a voice from the opposite side of the room. 

"Hiro?"

"Yeah," he answered, inching his hand away from his leg. He grabbed his notebook from the coffee table just as Aunt Cass appeared, her rolling luggage in tow.

"Wha-- honey, what are you-- where's Tadashi?"

"He went to the festival," Hiro said, scribbling something down on the paper.

"Without you?"

Hiro stopped writing and cleared his throat, a nervous tickle beginning to act up. "I told him to," he said. 

"What? Why? You love the festival." 

"I wasn't really feeling up to it this year," Hiro mumbled. 

"You didn't even touch your breakfast," Aunt Cass remarked, concern evident in her voice. She sat down beside him and laid the back of her hand against his forehead. "Hm. You don't feel warm," she murmured. Brushing some stray hairs out of his eyes, she moved her hand away, letting it rest on her knee. "Are you feeling okay, sweetie? Are you sick?"

_**Ha.** _

Hiro shook his head, pushing away the voice as best he could. "I'm just super busy. We're already preparing for finals. All the professors have these after-school review sessions and practice exams. I haven't had time to think about anything else. That's all." 

Aunt Cass pursed her lips, not seeming convinced. "Maybe I should stay home..."

His eyes widened. "What? N-no. Aunt Cass, you've been waiting for this for a long time. Go. I'm okay. Really." He felt his words tripping over themselves in his haste to get them out. Hiro watched her face for visual cues, silently willing her to change her mind. After a minute, she sighed, giving in to his urging.

"Alright. On one condition: you have to promise me that you'll eat something. There's still some chili from yesterday. But if you don't want that, I think there might be pizza in the freezer." She gave him a pointed look. "Promise?"

"Promise," Hiro said though he didn't think it sounded all that believable.

"Good." Aunt Cass stood up and took ahold of the luggage handle. "Listen, if you need anything, you call or text right away. I can be home within a half hour, okay? Or, if you can't reach me, call Tadashi. He's not far."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be fine."

She smiled and bent down to kiss his cheek. "I love you."

"You too."

Aunt Cass then went down to the first floor, the suitcase thumping with each step as she dragged it behind her. 

"Bye, honey," she called up one last time.

The door then opened and shut, and it was quiet. So quiet that Hiro could hear his heartbeat in his ears. The silence unnerved him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. Fishing between the cushions for the remote, Hiro flipped on the television. Voices and music poured out of the speakers, filling some of the hollowness of the room.

Unable to sit still any longer, Hiro got up and began to pace. First, he went downstairs into the empty café -- a rare sight for early afternoon. The chairs were all flipped upside down, resting on top of the tables. It made the floors easier to clean, Aunt Cass said. The refrigerated glass cases near the front displayed a variety of pastries and desserts, all made from scratch. As Hiro wandered closer, he caught a glimpse of the outside. Already there were throngs of people clogging the sidewalks. The Lucky Cat was located on a busy street, one that was also the final stretch of the parade route. Making sure to stay out of sight, Hiro watched the crowds swell for a few minutes before turning back upstairs.

Bypassing the kitchen and the living room, Hiro entered the dining room. The family used it for its true purpose only twice a year, on Thanksgiving and Christmas. The rest of the time it was just a dumping ground for bills and junk mail. Torn envelopes and old catalogs littered the shiny wooden table, making the surface almost disappear under the mess. Leaving the dining room, Hiro then went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Jars and bottles of different condiments lined the door while plastic containers and Styrofoam boxes of leftovers packed the shelves. Though his stomach grumbled and growled with hunger, Hiro really had no desire to eat anything at all. But remembering the promise he made to Aunt Cass, he took the Tupperware of turkey chili from the previous night's dinner and tossed the contents into a small pot on the stove. Not waiting for it to properly boil, Hiro removed the pot from the heat after five minutes and poured the chili into a bowl. It was barely warm around the edges and still ice cold in the middle, but Hiro didn't care. He was eating to placate his aunt, nothing more. 

Hiro only managed a few bites before his body started to reject the meal. His stomach churned, threatening to empty itself of its contents. Scraping the rest into the trash, Hiro returned to the living room. 

His open notebook stared at him from the end of the sofa, but Hiro ignored it. Instead, he shoved a cushion under his head and laid down, keeping his focus on the television.

Aunt Cass checked in on him by a handful of texts throughout the afternoon, all of which Hiro answered with curt, one-word responses:

* * *

_Hi sweetie. How are you feeling?_

_fine._

* * *

_Did you eat something?_

_chili_

* * *

_Did Tadashi text you? he's going to a_ _kabuki_

 _show_ _soon so he has to turn off his phone._

 

_ok_

* * *

It was no surprise to Hiro that Tadashi hadn't tried to contact him at all. He was pissed, and rightly so. 

As the shadows fell and the day turned to night, Hiro heard the distinct whistle and shriek of the first firework shooting toward the sky. It was then followed by a loud burst as it exploded over the city. He had shut off the television long ago, and since he hadn't bothered to switch on the lights when the sun went down, Hiro could make out the faint glow of the fireworks on the opposite wall from where he lay. Blues, reds, and golds came and went, lighting up the darkened room in intermittent flashes. 

Cheers and excited shouts rang out from the streets below. Hiro imagined Tadashi and their friends crammed alongside other revelers on the sidewalk, taking in the display with rapt attention. It was better that he wasn't there, Hiro reminded himself. He would have ruined the occasion with his sour attitude, and they deserved a good spring break. One that was enjoyable and stress-free. One without him. 

* * *

Hiro was already in bed by the time Tadashi got home just before ten, though he was still wide awake. If Hiro strained, he could hear every move Tadashi made: setting his keys down on the counter, pushing the kitchen chairs around, and finally, opening and closing the refrigerator. 

As Tadashi ascended the stairs to their room, he called out, "Hiro?"

Hiro didn't answer. Instead, he pulled the blankets up, shut his eyes and slowed his breathing, feigning sleep. 

Tadashi came in a moment later, and, if Hiro wasn't mistaken, he almost sounded disappointed. "In bed already?"

Allowing his eyes to open just a crack, Hiro watched Tadashi kick off his sneakers by the foot of his bed before making his way to the bathroom. He heard the scratch of his brother's toothbrush, running water, and the flush of the toilet. Tadashi emerged a few minutes later in his pajamas, dumping his day clothes in the hamper. 

Once more, Hiro saw Tadashi's gaze land on him. With careful steps, Tadashi approached Hiro's bed and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I really wish you had come today," Hiro heard him whisper. Taking his hand away, Tadashi sighed. "I guess I can tell you about it in the morning." He then switched off Hiro's bedside lamp and retreated to his side of the room.   

Hiro watched Tadashi settle underneath the covers and turn over on his side, facing the bookshelf that lined his wall.

Hiro squirmed slightly; he had to use the bathroom. Truth be told, he'd had to go for quite some time -- the only problem was mustering up the energy to move. But now he had to wait. He couldn't risk getting up if Tadashi was still awake. So he did, listening for the cues that Tadashi had fallen asleep. 

Propping himself up on one arm, Hiro strained to see in the dark. He could just make out the outline of Tadashi's form. It was quiet on the other side of the room now, and Hiro swore he could make out the soft sound of Tadashi's breathing. 

Peeling back the blankets, Hiro shifted to the edge of the bed and stood up, shivering as his soles made contact with the chilly floor. 

He crossed the room, using the thin strip of light coming from underneath the bathroom door as his only guide.

When he finished, Hiro crept back toward his bed, careful to not make much noise. Though, now in near-pitch darkness, Hiro took a wrong step and tripped over Tadashi's sneakers, sending him tumbling to the ground with a shout.

He cursed under his breath as a painful throbbing erupted in his knee.  

"...Hiro?"

_Shit._

"Hiro." Tadashi sounded more alert now, and Hiro could hear him shifting around on the mattress. There was a click and the room instantly filled with light as Tadashi switched on his lamp. He then appeared above him, peeking over the side of the bed. "Hiro, what are you doing down there? Are you okay?"

Hiro scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his leg. "I'm fine. I went to the bathroom and I guess I didn't look where I was going."

"Are you hurt?" Tadashi asked, his voice sincere with concern.  

"No," he lied. "Sorry I woke you."  

Hiro then slipped past the bed, only to pause when Tadashi grabbed the hem of his shirt. He turned, prompting Tadashi to let go and sit up straight. 

"Hey. Listen, I want to apologize for what I said this morning," Tadashi said. "About you not being a part of the family and all that stuff. I just lost my temper and I took it out on you. I'm really sorry, Hiro. I didn't mean it." 

Glancing down briefly, Hiro nodded, dragging his toe along the grain of the wood. Tadashi shouldn't have been apologizing to him.

"I know," he said. "It's okay." He started back to his corner once more when Tadashi held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wait. I'd really like to tell you about the festival. What do you say?"

Hiro hesitated until he saw Tadashi's outstretched hand. It was an invitation. A peace offering. Tadashi then smiled, but it was weak. Hiro could tell that Tadashi was bracing himself for when Hiro inevitably declined his request. Tadashi was trying so hard to mend their relationship, even when he didn't have to. It was the least Hiro could do to spend a few minutes with him. 

Sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, Hiro folded his hands in his lap. "So... what did you guys do?"

Tadashi didn't answer right away. It seemed like he wanted to say something else. His eyes shifted to the space that separated them and back to Hiro.  

"I won't bite, knucklehead," Tadashi said finally. He kept his voice soft, yet the hurt was clear. "Sit with me."

Scooting closer, Hiro settled between Tadashi's legs before leaning against him and resting his head right below Tadashi's collarbone. 

"There we go," Tadashi said, his tone brighter. "That's better, right? Now, the festival--oh. Before I forget, I brought you home your own _taiyaki._ "

Hiro blinked up at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, as we were leaving, the vendor was making a fresh batch," Tadashi said. "It's chocolate -- your favorite. I thought you could have it for breakfast with syrup -- just how you like it." 

There was a thrum of gratitude in Hiro's chest. "T-Thank you."

Rubbing small circles into his back, Tadashi smiled. "No problem. Anyway, back to the festival. Well, it was packed, of course. There were so many people already there when I arrived, I almost didn't find a place for my bike. But, luckily, I did, and I met up with everyone right by the movies. We walked around for a while, and then Honey saw this beautiful silk purse she wanted. It was kinda expensive, though, but GoGo haggled with the guy for a good fifteen minutes. It was pretty impressive. Then there was this wasabi-eating contest -- basically who could eat a teaspoon in one bite. Fred won. He suffered, poor guy. But the good news is that his cold is gone. And, you know, we just browsed all the shops, had some lunch. We also saw this kabuki show that was _amazing._ I think you would have really liked it, Hiro. It was about this man, and..." 

Tadashi's ramblings melted away, though Hiro could feel the rumbling of his voice reverberating through his chest. It soothed him, and Hiro began tracing idle patterns across Tadashi's shirt. It was an old Ninjas one that he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday, and somehow, it still fit five years on. It was faded, with the logo having turned from a stark black to a charcoal gray from repeated washes. Even so, it was soft and comfortable, with the fibers now permanently imbued with the sweet aroma of coffee and cinnamon from years of helping out in the café. Curling his fingers around a bit of the worn, cotton material, Hiro shut his eyes. Sitting like this with Tadashi reminded Hiro of when they were little; when they would huddle together during a thunderstorm, hiding under the blanket from the lightning. Tadashi would tell stories; tall tales about superheroes and robots that kept Hiro's mind off of the howling storm right outside. Tadashi was selfless to a fault, always giving to others with no expectations of anything in return. Not to mention forgiving, like now, with Tadashi acting like he always did, like their argument that morning never happened. He could have just brushed Hiro aside, but he didn't. He wanted to be with him and share the events of his day. 

It struck Hiro then just how lonely he was. How the sickening emptiness that had sunk its teeth into him and swallowed him had isolated him from his family. How this chill that settled deep within his bones and could not be remedied with a hot drink and a blanket had left him desperate to feel something.  _Anything._

"So, what did you do while I was gone?"

Hiro opened his eyes when he realized that Tadashi was addressing him. But the question went unanswered.

Acting on impulse, Hiro leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Tadashi's. The kiss was chaste and featherlight, like his brother's lips were made of glass. Tadashi tensed at the contact and Hiro felt a warm pressure against his sternum. A hand. The pressure increased until the connection was broken and a cool rush of air filled the minute gap between them.

Hiro's grip on Tadashi's shirt loosened as the paralyzing surge reality came flooding back, knocking the wind out of him. 

"Hiro...?" 

Tadashi reached for him, but Hiro ripped himself away so fast his head spun. Hot tears clouded his vision and all he saw was the blurry outline of his brother. The fight-or-flight instinct that lay dormant until now kicked in. It stirred up within Hiro's chest like a tornado and he launched himself back, scrambling to get away. But then Tadashi grabbed his arm, and Hiro froze.

"Hiro, wait," he pleaded.

Hiro whimpered, trying in vain to pry Tadashi's hand off. "Let me go,  _please_." 

There was a fire at his back. It licked his bones and engulfed his spine. The invisible smoke stung his eyes, constricting his throat. He couldn't breathe. Tadashi's grip was firm, and Hiro's strength was fading. He could feel it draining from his fingertips. The tension in his arm wilted. He was too tired; too weak to fight.

He crumbled.

Tadashi released Hiro's wrist from his grasp and pulled him close. Exhausted and shaking, Hiro didn't resist as Tadashi held him tight. His slight frame convulsed with violent sobs as shame tore a hole in his heart. He wanted to die.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Hiro sounded like a broken record, but the stream of apologies was all he could verbalize.

Tadashi pressed his lips to the crown of his head, murmuring words of comfort into his hair. "Shh... shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay, Hiro. Shh..."

 _ **How can he say that? Nothing about this is okay.**_  

He snapped his head up to stare directly into Tadashi's watery gaze.

"Why aren't you mad?" Hiro demanded, his eyes ablaze with self-loathing. "Why don't you hate me?"

"Hiro..." Tadashi gently cradled his face in his hands, using his thumbs to brush away the tears from his cheeks. "You are the most important person in the world to me. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. Do you understand? _Nothing_. I love you so much."  

Tadashi then tucked his head under his chin and began to gently card his fingers through Hiro's hair.

He held him just like that for the longest time, until Hiro's sobs dissolved into quiet sniffles. Still, despite the relative silence, Hiro could hear the gears turning in his brother's head.

Moments later, Tadashi sighed.

"Hiro..."

Hiro trembled, an involuntary reaction as he prepared himself for what was coming.

"Please tell me what's wrong," Tadashi went on. " _Please_. You have to let me help you, but I can't unless I know what happened."

There it was. Everything that Hiro had tried so hard to avoid all came crashing down around him a single breath.  

"I can't," Hiro said, the words shaky in their conviction. 

"Hey." Placing his thumb and forefinger under Hiro's chin, Tadashi gently tilted his face up. Two pairs of brown eyes met, and Tadashi smiled. It was warm and loving, just like him.

"You can tell me anything, Hiro. You know that. Rule Number One, remember?"

_Hamada Brothers Rule Number One: Hamada brothers can tell each other anything. No judgments, no teasing, no secrets._

Hiro shook his head, desperate to hold on to the incriminating secret. He knew that it was slowly destroying him, but it was _his_. It was all he had.

"They'll kill me," Hiro whispered, his dark eyes now wide and fearful. 

In an instant, Tadashi's face darkened. The protective glint in his eyes flared to life and his jaw tightened. 

"What? Hiro, who said that? Was it someone you know?"

Hiro nodded as his bottom lip quivered. 

"Someone from school?"

" _No."_

"Who, Hiro? I _swear_ \-- they can't hurt you anymore."

Hiro looked away, the corners of his eyes burning with unshed tears. It was useless to resist any longer. "Yama... and his men."

The name felt heavy on Hiro's tongue, and he felt as though he had just sealed his fate.

"What did they do to you?" There was a hard edge to Tadashi's voice, though it wavered.

"They hurt me, 'Dashi." Hiro bit down on his lip until he tasted blood. He then glanced back at Tadashi, receiving the same pitying look as before.

"What happened, Hiro?" His tone was softer and he gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay."

Hiro didn't recognize his own voice when he spoke. "They _raped_ me."

For a moment, Tadashi's face was inscrutable. Hiro figured it was only a matter of time until the other shoe dropped. Until Tadashi pushed him away and called him disgusting and told him that he didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

But he didn't. Tadashi's expression contorted into one of anguish. His breath hitched and a single tear slipped free, creating a small dark spot on his pant leg. " _What?_ No... Hiro, no. No, no, no. Please, no. Oh, _God._  I--"

Hiro's hand flew to his mouth as another broken sob forced itself out. He folded over into himself and squeezed his eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears trailed down his cheeks. He tried to speak, but any words disintegrated into ash at the back of his throat. Tadashi scooped him up in one swift motion and placed him securely in his lap.

Hiro felt himself unraveling, though he was grateful for Tadashi's arms around him. They were strong and unyielding, doing everything in their power to keep him together. 

"I'm sorry, Hiro. I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. I've got you. You're going to be okay. I promise." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! Please review!! ^_^
> 
> check me out on Tumblr [HERE](http://princessofnewcorona.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> All of Hiro's classes mentioned, both in this chapter and Chapter 5, are all taken from the companion book, "Hiro's Journal" It's a must-read (if you want your heart stomped on) :)))
> 
> "Taiyaki" is a typical Japanese street food. It's a pastry in the shape of a fish, usually with some type of filling. The traditional filling is red bean paste, but other ones include cheese, chocolate and custard.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTICE: I want to apologize tremendously for the delay, everyone. You all have been so kind with your encouraging words and kudos, and it means absolutely everything to me. Unfortunately, school and other personal issues have really taken a toll on me, hence the ridiculous time between chapters. HOWEVER, I want you all to know, that, at this time, I have every intention of continuing/completing this story. If at any time, I feel that I do not want to continue, I will let you all know and I won't just leave you hanging. But just remember, this story is extremely special to me, and I most definitely want to see it through to the end. I hope you all will be with me, too. Once again, thanks a million for the support and love. You all are amazing <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all liked it. Please drop me a review.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome. This is my first story on this website so I'm still trying to figure out how it works. 
> 
> Thanks.
> 
> (I am not sure how many chapters it will be)
> 
> Updates will be slow because of school and such :(


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